


Lady Stardust and Her Sharp Dressed Man

by AliceUpdate



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, LadyNoir - Freeform, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, Superheroes, Unrequited Love, adrienette - Freeform, shy adrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 134,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceUpdate/pseuds/AliceUpdate
Summary: What if this other boy never existed? What if he never made it to school that day and Marinette never got to meet him? And…considering these circumstances, will things indeed be different between Cat Noir and Ladybug? Or was the latter just built in some sort of bizarre way that simply kept her from giving in to the feelings that tied her to her partner?Well, in a world where Hawk Moth’s akumas only seem to grow stronger and deadlier by the second and where the supervillain’s growing obstinacy is making him more dangerous every day, let’s just say that Paris’ favorite superheroine has to deal with problems others than the nonexistence of her deplorable love life.





	1. The Ladybug Style

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been one of those people who wondered 'What if...' and wrote fanfics about it... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

First of all, they’re not lady- _bugs_ , but lady- _beetles_ , because, according to some articles published by The Australian Museum, bugs have needle-like mouthparts, whereas beetles have chewing mouthparts.

            Second of all, even if that particular one is, they aren’t all red with black spots– There are about five thousands species of ladybugs in the world, and they can be of any color. Amusingly enough, these spots and bright colors are meant to warn the beetle’s predators of its terrible taste. This explains why they aren’t often preyed upon.

            Also, ladybugs are big fans of hibernation, because they absolutely hate the cold winter wind.

            Finally, the ‘lady’ part of their name is a reference to the Virgin Mary. An old legend says that, during the Middle Ages in Europe, an executioner supposed to slay a death row prisoner saw a ladybug on the latter’s neck. He tried to shoo it off, but it always ended up coming back; King Robert II saw it as a divine intervention and decided to forgive the condemned man.

            This man was later known as one of the many Black Cat Miraculous holders, and his life was therefore saved by a Ladybug Miraculous holder– His partner, no doubt. Ever since the dawn of time, these two Miraculous holders were always chosen together and destined to work alongside as partners. We say it is because the two gods inhabiting this specific set of jewels were made out of the same eternity stone– They were two halves of one whole.

            The Ladybug Miraculous represented the embodiment of luck and provided its holder with the power of creation. The Black Cat Miraculous denoted the exact opposite of this: the magical ring solely called upon misfortune and destruction. In the end, the part each of them endorsed within the duo made lots of sense, with Cat Noir being the warrior, and Ladybug being, well, the savior.

            So, living up to her well-fitting title, when Marinette received a call in the middle of the night, asking her to come and pick up a drunken friend at a bar, just outside of the ‘safe’ perimeter of her neighborhood, she obliged with no hesitation.

            “You know I always encourage you to help people in need, Marinette, but this is taking it way too far!” growled Tikki, Marinette’s kwami, as the latter turned on the car engine. “That’s like… the second time this month that you had to crawl out of bed, past midnight, to go and pick up his reckless self!”

            “Tikki… You know Felix is going through a rough patch, right now…” Marinette sighed before engaging in the alley that surrounded her building. It didn’t take her long to reach the traffic circle, and in merely a couple of minutes, the familiar sight of her district vanished, allowing a new landscape to come into focus– Paris’ streets were all empty at this hour.

            “Everyone has problems to deal with!” snapped the kwami, noticeably unnerved by the sudden lack of sleep. “Since when did _his_ become _your_ responsibility?”

            “Felix is a good friend, and he always stood by me,” Marinette reminded her. “He just… found himself in a bad place, I guess. I want to be there for him.”

            “You can do that without putting yourself in danger, Marinette!” Tikki insisted, her wide, indigo eyes, full of worry, as she flew over and landed on her owner’s right shoulder.

            “I know, Tikki… It’s just… He doesn’t have anyone else, and…” Marinette paused, let out another exhausted sigh, and never carried on her sentence. Tikki nodded grimly and chose to stay silent for the rest of the ride.

            Felix Agreste wasn’t provided with the easiest upbringing; his mom left when he was just a kid, and his dad was a cold, very strict figure who constantly seemed disappointed in his elder son’s actions. His expectations of him were often never met, and Felix had the bad habit to always blame himself for his failures. He had a younger brother, Adrien, whom Marinette never met, but of whom he speaks highly. According to him, Adrien was a strong, free-spirited persona, who didn’t mind the constant arguing with their father and frequently rebelled against the latter. Felix says that he got his hothead from their mom. Marinette knew that her friend would choose to die a horrible death a million times before admitting to himself that he actually admired his brother’s courage and his ability to stand up to the world-famous and utterly respected fashion designer Gabriel Agreste.

            Felix was twenty-four years old now, and his father was currently putting him under a lot of pressure: he wanted his son to take over his company, without troubling himself to hide the fact that he wasn’t convinced with Felix being indeed the best fit to run his business, a jewel he built from scratch, many years ago. Felix owned a couple of master’s degrees in Fashion Management and Fashion Marketing, and was a very sharp businessman but… He wasn’t a designer. Sure, he knew a thing or two about clothes and knew which colors should never be worn together, but he couldn’t sew, and could definitely not come up with a brand new outfit design.

            “We’re here.”

            Marinette let out a sharp breath before instructing Tikki to hide in her jacket pocket. She circled the building and parked in front of the back door, then got out of her car, and walked shyly into the bar. The barman recognized her immediately and waved her over.

            “Hey, Marinette!” he greeted her, pouting. “Long time no see. How are you doing?”

            Marinette responded with a frown. He didn’t really care, honestly; he was just trying to be sarcastic– Marinette was here just two weeks ago, picking up the same poor bastard who was probably lying somewhere on the bathroom floor, again.

            Marinette rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “I don’t have time for this, Max. Where is he?”

            “I had to take his car keys away from him, you know.”

            Marinette bit her upper lip, her eyes, suddenly full of sadness and concern. “How bad is it?” she asked, trying, and failing, to keep composure.

            Max shook his head. “Look, I know this doesn’t exactly look like the _Four Seasons Hotel_ , but I’m still trying to run a business, here. The next time your friend shows up wasted and tries to pick up fights with my customers, I will have to ban him. Definitely.”

            “I… understand. I really hope it won’t happen again.”

            Max let out something that resembled a small growl, before taking out Felix’s phone and car keys from his jeans back pocket, sliding them over to Marinette, and watching her as she tucked them away in her handbag. Oddly enough, he felt bad for calling her, tonight. He knew she lived alone, and anyone in their right mind would feel threatened in this particular neighborhood. Especially this late at night. He blamed Felix for always putting himself, and Marinette, in such impossible situations. “When I left him, he was asleep on a toilet seat. If you don’t find him in the Men’s Room, try the back kitchen. He couldn’t have gotten that far– I had his keys.”

            “Gee, Max. Thanks a lot for keeping an eye on him.”

            “He isn’t my problem, Princess.”

            At this point, Marinette really wanted to punch him in the teeth, but she took a deep breath instead and calmly walked away. Fortunately enough, Felix was there, throwing his guts up into the first toilet he could reach. Marinette smiled to herself, and blessed her lucky charm, before kneeling next to her friend to softly pat his back.

            “Ready to go home?” she asked him, daring to bury her hand in his sweaty blond locks.

            “I hate it when you see me like this. I always tell Max _not_ to call you. To call anyone _but_ you. And he never listens,” Felix mumbled, refusing to lock eyes with Marinette.

            “Would you prefer it, if it was your father that came to pick you up?” she replied, a little annoyed. She quickly got up on her feet and landed him a hand to help him stand. He took it.

            “I don’t think so,” he admitted sheepishly, and Marinette looked up to smile at him. Felix was a head taller than her, and it made it quite difficult for her to keep balance while helping him to her car. “Thanks, Marinette,” he sighed after she buckled up his seatbelt for him and settled behind the car wheel.

            She smiled at him once again and lifted a hand to brush his cheek. Her touch was gentle and addictive, and Felix felt a cold shiver traveling down his spine when she had to withdraw herself to start the car. “What are friends for?”

            As he glanced over at her, Felix couldn’t help but realize just how beautiful Marinette really was, glowing in the city’s nightlight. Her skin was pale and perfect, and her eyes wore a very specific shade of blue that seemed impossible to replicate. She usually braided her hair from the top down, to keep it from falling in her face while she was working, but her furious raven locks were free now, dancing around her shoulders like a cloud of black silk– She was either already in bed or readying herself to sleep when Max called her. He felt awful for needing her, dragging her outside this late at night.

            “Stop it.”

            Felix blenched at the sound of her voice and realized he was staring. He quickly looked away, his cheeks, shining bright red, and focused his gaze on the shops and the buildings that trailed before him. “What do you mean?” he asked innocently, but he sounded too keen for it to be natural.

            Marinette giggled. Immediately, he blamed her for having such an adorable, irresistible laugh that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Stop overthinking it. You’re torturing yourself… Plus, it’s really not a big deal,” she assured him. Felix folded his arms and frowned in disapproval. Marinette took his hand in hers and squeezed softly– He almost thought his heart had stopped beating. “It’s not!” she exclaimed. “I swear.”

            When she let go of him, Felix fought the impulse to grab back her hand and pushed both of his deep into his pockets. “Do you still have my phone?” he asked.

            “Yeah.”

            Felix Agreste became aware of his feelings for Marinette a couple years ago. It was around the same time that he discovered that she didn’t reciprocate them, and probably never will.

            He and Marinette met a long time ago, when she was still in high school, and he was in his first year of University– His father was throwing a contest for young aspiring designers, and challenged them to design a derby hat for his new collection. Marinette won, of course, and Gabriel Agreste was so impressed by her talent, that he offered her an internship– It merely consisted of her running around in their house (Gabriel always worked from home), fetching him coffee or fabric, shadowing a few photos shoots with famous models or photographers, and rarely, giving him her opinion on some of his new designs.

            For three whole months, Marinette would come over to his house almost every day to act like a Natalie copycat. She, therefore, witnessed a lot of arguments between him and his father, but the one time she managed to stand up for him ( _she stood up for him_ ), Gabriel coldly put back in her place. The next day, she brought him a jar of cookies and her unconditional support. They quickly became friends after that. From this point on, it was only a matter of time before he fell in love with her.

            “Am I ever going to get it back?” he insisted, desperate to keep the conversation going if only to keep him from thinking.

            “It’s in my bag,” she said, indicating the back seat of the car with a swift thumb gesture. “You can have it back later,” she offered, biting down a laugh as Felix failed a poor attempt in grabbing said bag. “So…” she whispered loudly as Felix inevitably began to fear the worst. “What was it about, this time?”

            Felix let out a long sigh. “Father gave a press conference yesterday about the future of _Agreste Designs_. He finally made up his mind.” He paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In his pockets, his fingernails dug deep into his palms, almost drawing blood, as his hands clasped into fists. A minute, maybe two, passed by. Marinette didn’t dare to say a word. The tension in the air was now tangible, and the silence was killing her. She took her left and stopped before a red traffic light. “He will be running the firm by himself for a few more years. According to him, I haven’t proven myself sufficient, or reliable enough,” Felix finally conceded. His eyes were shining with tears, but he forced himself to swallow down his sobs– He will _not_ be crying in front of Marinette. “He announced the decision publicly– I’m surprised you didn’t know…”

            Marinette wanted to scream. No, she wanted to change the itinerary, and drive all the way back to the Agreste mansion, on the other side of town, just so she could yell her head off at Gabriel Agreste, then beat him up the way Ladybug beat up supervillains. Felix was working so hard for this job, and, oddly enough, was really looking forward to taking over the company after his father’s retirement. During the past two years or so, he sacrificed all illusion of a social life, countless hours of sleep, and all that was left of his sanity. He lost a lot of weight, because he couldn’t find the time to properly exercise anymore, and only ate half of what Marinette would drop by once or twice a week. His apartment was a mess, and he almost always smelled like vomit and alcohol. But then, something crossed her mind and she turned to face Felix, who was already looking at her. “Did _you_ know anything about it?”

            Felix’s gaze dropped, and Marinette felt her heart sink. The red traffic light turned green, and they cut across the road in half a minute. “I learned it the same way everybody else did,” he confessed, as shame painted two red circles on his cheeks. _As if he had anything to be ashamed for!_ Marinette wanted to shout– The only one who should be ashamed of himself was obviously Gabriel Agreste who basically enslaved his own son for the past two years, before denying him all right to fly with his own wings.

            “That’s it,” she said instead, extremely serious. “I’m murdering your father in his sleep.” Against all odds, Felix burst out laughing. Marinette glanced at him with incomprehension. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say anything funny? You don’t think that I’ll be able to pull it off?”

            Marinette tried to keep a straight face, but, as it turned out, Felix’s grin was very contagious. “Marinette,” he said. “I _know_ for a fact that you won’t be able to pull this off. You’re too small, and sweet… _So_ not cut out to fight bad guys…”

            _Oh, the irony_ , Marinette almost blurted out, but she nonchalantly waved off the thought. “I could if they’re asleep,” she prompted instead.

            “And how are you going to walk past his bodyguard, exactly?” Felix countered.

            “I’ll charm him, of course! No one can resist the power of these beautiful bluebell eyes!” she chortled, with a devastating side smirk.

            She was joking, of course, but Felix knew exactly just how right she was: never has he been able to resist the chanting magic sealed inside her irises. “Yeah, right…”

            Felix moved out of the Agreste mansion in his second year of University, so that he would be closer to his school. Gabriel never liked the idea, and ever since his graduation, was practically begging him to move back in– For his own safety, he said. His apartment was a two-bedroom on the second floor of a big building in the fifth district (rich kid’s benefit) and he had his own parking spot– Marinette used it, as it was empty right now (Felix’s car was still in Max’s bar’s parking).

            “You don’t have to come up with me,” he whined when Marinette grabbed the handle of the car door. “I’m sure I can do it on my own.”

            “Are you kidding me, right now? You can barely walk!” she replied, frowning.

            “I’ll be fine, M. You don’t need to worry about me.”

            “If I don’t worry about you, who will?” she whispered, rolling her eyes so hard that he swore he could hear it. Then, he froze–

            There was so much truth in those words that, as he swallowed them, he wondered if that was how it felt like to swallow half a gallon of bleach.

            Marinette was right– Was there _anyone_ else, in the world, to worry about him at all?

            The bodyguard that used to follow him around everywhere and all day long were only paid to do so, and Natalie only worried because she feared his father’s furies. To worry about someone, you will have to care about them first. Adrien… Well, he was his little brother, but they weren’t as close as they used to be anymore, and, after their last encounter, Felix wasn’t even sure they’ll ever be on speaking terms again.

            His father? It was no doubt that Gabriel Agreste’s parenting methods weren’t… ideal… and he certainly did some pretty awful things to both his children, sometimes displaying not only extreme coldness, but also cruelty, and neglect… but Felix was certain that his father, at least, cared about him, deep down. He just had a very _special_ way of showing it, he guessed.

            In the end, Marinette was maybe the sole figure of warmth in his entire world– And this is why it was so easy for him to fall in love with her… When you spend your life held captive in your very own castle of ice, you go, desperately looking for some heat.

            “And no discussion,” Marinette plumped, before getting out of the car. She quickly paced around the hood, and held out his door for him, before he even thought about doing it himself. She helped him up easily, and he managed to prove to her that he could walk on his own.

            The elevator of his building was narrow, and so he had to press his back tightly against the wall, to keep from touching Marinette inconveniently. It was during moments like this that his brain was able to trick him into thinking that confessing his true feelings to her could be a good idea. Fortunately, he always managed to snap out of it before it was too late.

            When they got out, Felix was surprised to notice his little brother Adrien’s silhouette in the dim hallway, his back leaning against his door. “Adrien?” he asked, right before switching on the lights. At the sound of his voice, his brother straightened himself into a more appropriate position and waited for him and Marinette to come over to him. He instinctively stretched a hand towards the latter, but Felix waved it off with an angry frown. “What are you doing here?”

            “You called,” Adrien replied monotonously. “I tried to reach you, you weren’t answering. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

            “I’m okay, as you can see. Now leave,” Felix barked, and Marinette had to squeeze his arm gently to get him to cool down a bit. She glanced up at Adrien with an ugly and threatening glare but he didn’t budge– He was even taller than Felix.

            “Well, now that I am here… Maybe we could uh… talk?” he proposed, carefully stepping aside, as Marinette let go of Felix to open the door to his apartment.

            “I have nothing to say to you, Adrien!” the latter snapped, startling both his friend and his brother. “I-I’m sorry…” he muttered, making sure that his brother knew his apology was only destined to Marinette.

            “What if I do?” Adrien replied his hands on his hips, and a defying look on his face.

            “Well, I don’t want to hear it,” Felix hissed, as Marinette quickly turned around to stand between the two Agreste men– This could so easily go out of control.

            Adrien sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You are being unreasonable, brother. All I want is a little chat.”

            “You want me to reconsider,” Felix fathomed, and he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the sight of his brother that made him more furious. “I already told you. My decision is final.”

            “Felix, pleas– !”Adrien started, before being abruptly cut off by Marinette.

            “Why don’t you two continue this conversation later?” she asked, way too confident to his liking. “Felix is exhausted,” she explained. “He needs a good night sleep to sober up. You two can talk, _then_.”

            “I’m sorry, but this is a family matter,” Adrien reminded her, lifting an eyebrow as if he was impressed by her _panache_. “You’d be smarter to stay out of it.”

            “Family doesn’t end in blood,” she retorted. “I’m sure your little argument can at least wait until tomorrow.”

            Felix let out a small sigh and softly put his hands on her shoulders. She turned to face him, and he was immediately stroked but their proximity. His sudden anger dropped abruptly. For a second, her very pink lips were all he could focus on, and his whole body shattered when they parted. He forced himself to glance back at her eyes, so blue, and so beautiful, and he was hit by the realization that this wasn’t even remotely better. He took several steps back to put an arm’s length distance between them. “You’ve done so much already, Marinette,” he whispered. “I can handle that– You should go home.”

            “Felix, are you shitting me right now? I’m not–“

            “Please,” he persisted.

            Marinette was the stubborn one– her determination will probably be the death of him, and Felix was more of a passive force. It was very unlikely of him to insist on something so, when he did, Marinette just couldn’t contravene. “Okay,” she mumbled, letting her gaze drop. “I’m trusting you, Agreste. Don’t do anything illegal– I won’t visit you in prison,” she warned him.

            He smiled at her gently and leaned towards her to kiss her forehead– It was a friendly kiss, the kind of gesture a brother could proffer to his sister or a father to his daughter. She nodded, made sure to return his smile, didn’t bother to say goodbye to Adrien, and walked over towards the elevator, leaving the two brothers alone. When she got out of the building, however, she, unfortunately, found herself stuck under the entrance’s roofer top, as thunderbolts were tearing up the sky and rain was pouring vigorously. She wondered if she wasn’t able to hear them earlier because of Felix’s screaming.

            She only waited a dozen of minutes before hearing the cold metallic and familiar sound of the building’s gates opening, then closing up again. She didn’t need to take a look to guess the person that had just joined her under the porch. She didn’t say anything and hoped the rain will stop before it all got even more awkward.

            “You know, Felix talks a lot about you,” Adrien sputtered, in order to break the silence. “I mean… It’s true that we don’t speak often but… When we do, it is almost impossible for him to keep your name off the conversation. You are probably the most important person in his life.”

            Marinette glanced at him with curious eyes, and, without saying a single word, quietly pleaded him to continue. He smiled to no one in particular and dropped his gaze to the ground.

            “You must already have made up your mind about our family– And I’m not trying to correct your perception of us or anything… I’m sure we deserve every dark thought you had about us but… I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thank you,” he stammered out shyly. “For always being there for Felix, that is.” He paused, tried to look back up at her, but failed, and kept his eyes on the floor as if hers were too intimidating to hold. “You know, he’s my brother. We have a very similar background, he and I. We come from the same fucked-up family, and received a very similar education. I’m not– I’m not good with people, or my feelings. I don’t know how to show that I care. Figures, right?” he scoffed. “But I truly care about Felix,” he resumed, more seriously. “And I am so thankful that he has someone like you to look after him.”

            Marinette opened her mouth to say something but refrained last minute.

            “I swear I didn’t come here to pick a fight with him, and I’m sorry about what you had to witness– You see, I was sleeping, and when I woke up, I had two missed calls from him. He never calls me. I figured it was an emergency and came here right away when I failed to contact him. I’m sorry. I should’ve been the person picking him up from that bar. Not you.”

            “It’s o-okay. I-I didn’t mind…”

            “It’s not okay,” he maintained. “He is my brother, therefore my responsibility. I should’ve been there for him.”

            “Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?” Marinette inquired, trying to cheer him up a bit.

            He scoffed. “He just threw me out. I don’t think he wants me anywhere near him.”

            “Come on. Don’t give up on him just yet.”

            “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on doing so.”

            This time, Marinette turned completely to face him and gave him her most encouraging smile. “Good,” she said softly, holding out a hand to kindly rest it on his forearm.

            He finally looked up at her, his cheeks, flushed with hot pink as he smiled back at her, and his heart, going crazy inside his ribcage. His hands were shaking, so he clasped them into fists and tried his best to remain still. There was something special about him, Marinette thought to herself. Something warm escaped his skin and haloed him with gold and jade– It probably was what saved him, all those years he spend trapped in the Agreste mansion. His bottle-green eyes held some kind of familiarity and tasted like candy and kindness. They glowed in the dark like two tiny emerald gems. On the spur of the moment, Marinette made the silent wish to rescue not one, but both of Gabriel Agreste’s children from his patriarchal grip.

            Suddenly, copying the red that slowly crept up Adrien’s neck, her face was suddenly filled with heat. A thousand hours could’ve passed by, and neither one of them would’ve noticed, too occupied staring at each other’s faces– Adrien was sure he had seen this shade of blue somewhere before, but then came to the realization that her eyes were too beautiful for him to ever had forgotten them.

            Their moment was cut short by the sound of the roaring engine of the car that rode up the road and stopped right in front of Felix’s building entrance, its highlights, like giant shiny eyes breaking into the shadows. The driver honked twice for Adrien, Marinette supposed. The young man made a step towards the car, taking out his umbrella, then glanced over his shoulder to catch eyes with her one more time. She smiled at him and waved him off, but he remained at his place.

            “I’m so sorry you had to get out of bed this late to go fetch him. I’m still unable to shake the feeling,” he said, looking truly apologetic.

            “It’s fine, really,” she assured him. “Besides, I’ll be home just in time to watch the sunrise,” she added with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

            His face softened. “Take care, Marinette. I really hope we see each other again.”

            There was something special about the way he said her name and it left something like a crack in her heart. He took another step forward, and Marinette was still watching him as he got right under the heavy water. He stopped again and turned that time to face her fully, before handing her the umbrella. She stared at him with round eyes, but he only repeated the gesture, wanting her to take it. She did, still gaping at him with total incomprehension and a face full of questions, as the rain began to drown him slowly.

            She must have inattentively pressed a button on the handle of the umbrella, because it suddenly closed on her, caging her in her ridiculous clumsiness. She heard him laugh softly before he helped her out of her mess, and brusquely, it was her heart that was beating too loud, louder than the rain, louder than the thunderbolts even, and she feared he would hear it. If he did though, he didn’t show it. She tried to thank him, but her words got stuck in her throat somehow, so she smiled instead, but was pretty sure it came off weird. He gazed at her one last time before running and getting into his car. It quickly disappeared in the night.

            “Y-you… You t-too…” she stammered to herself. “Why am I stammering, all of a sudden?”

             “I may have an idea!” Tikki giggled, flying out of her jacket pocket and zooming towards her owner’s face. “Oh! Would you look at that! Are you blushing, Marinette?”

            “No, I’m not…” Marinette pouted, swiftly glancing away, as her kwami gently crashed into her cheek to kiss it softly. Marinette looked into her wide, dark blue eyes, and smiled brightly. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

            Tikki chuckled again, and rested on Marinette’s shoulder as the latter rapidly ran down the stairs before pacing towards her car– she had parked it a couple blocks away, at the place that was usually reserved to Felix’s. She got in quickly, still holding on to Adrien’s umbrella, and asked herself if she would ever be able to give it back to him somehow, or if she’ll ever get to see him again.

            As he sat in the back seat of his car, Adrien wondered the exact same thing.

            He had let Plagg out of his shirt’s inner pocket and the tiny black cat was now drowsing on his knees. “Now, now… Don’t go around falling in love with your brother’s girl, Adrien…” he warned him, as he was carefully licking his front paws.

            “Wh-what? Where is this even coming from?”

            “Don’t even try to hide it, lover boy. I saw the way you were looking at her. Kinda reminded me of the way you gaze at a certain spotted superbug.”

            “Come on, Plagg. Lay off me. Marinette’s just a friend.” Adrien’s eyes lit up as he pronounced the last word, still not ready to believe that he finally gets to call someone a friend.

            He didn’t have much of those, indeed– Ladybug was his partner. He trusted her with his life, admired her blindly, and loved her deeply but… He didn’t know her, behind the mask. As he came to think of it, he didn’t really know anything about her. Her age was a mystery. He didn’t know if she had any siblings, if her parents were still together, or what she did in her spare time.

            He didn’t have her number. How was she supposed to pick him up at a bar at four o’clock in the morning when he was too drunk to look after himself if he couldn’t even call her? Ladybug could never be to him what Marinette was to Felix.

            She was the love of his life, of course, but he seriously doubted that he was even remotely close to being hers.


	2. Boysenberry butterflies

It was not easy, nor very cheap, to get a hold of a big apartment in the heart of Paris, but we could say that Marinette got lucky. She was living in a nice neighborhood in the eleventh district and just started out her very own boutique.

            At barely twenty-one years old, Marinette was a graduate of ESMOD/ISEM Paris, the number one ranked fashion school in France and held a master’s degree in Fashion Business. For two whole years, she has worked as a designer for a kid’s brand called _Uriel France_ , and before that, she had spent six months as a saleswoman assistant for Coco Chanel Fashion Corporation, as part of an internship offered by her university. Sometime like a year ago, her friend Felix encouraged her to quit her job at _Uriel_ and start a new brand of her own. He was so eager to believe in her that she ended up doing just that– As it turned out, it was maybe the best decision she ever made.

            Early in her debut, Felix, by God knows what miracle, convinced Gabriel Agreste to invest in her, and, very soon after that, was able to pull some strings and get her designs to parade on a runway, just in time for the launching of the _Who’s Next_ fashion show. Right away, Marinette received many calls from a bunch of other investors, all very impressed and excited about her work.

            Today, at twenty-three years old, Marinette had three employees working for her, and _Lady Luck_ couldn’t have wished for better.

            “Do you think Hawk Moth has finally given up?” Marinette suddenly asked, making Tikki choke on a bite of chocolate chip cookies. “I mean… The last time we fought an akuma was like six months ago…” she stated plainly while looking over at the quietness of the gray city. All the lights were out, except for those still enlightening the Eiffel Tower, and the buildings were asleep, left unbothered by the awakening bakers. The sunrise was beautiful, spraying pink and orange all over the dark sky, birthing rainbows in the drops of water that still stained her balcony railing.

            “Maybe,” Tikki replied, flying across the table and up, just a foot away from Marinette’s face, to meet her gaze, “But should I remind you that the last akuma you faced almost killed you?”

            Marinette’s jaw tensed and she let out a long sigh before taking another sip of her hot chocolate. The cool breeze of the morning brushed her skin, giving her goose bumps and straightening the hair on the back of her neck. She hugged her blanket even tighter– Her first thought about it was that it wasn’t finished just yet. Indeed, many months ago, she started to gather up band T-shirts she couldn’t wear anymore, funny tops she found in little souvenir shops by the Seine or in touristic neighborhoods, old sweaters she couldn’t bring herself to throw away, and funky jerseys with cool one-of-a-kind designs, that she assembled together into one very large, very warm patchwork quilt. She knew Tikki loved it, especially during cold winters. It was soft, and fluffy, and full of memories, but she needed it to be even bigger. So far, she had collected a rough fifty unique shirts, and she was still looking for around fifty more.

            “Hawk Moth isn’t giving up,” the kwami calmly resumed, rubbing her tiny antennas together, right above her head. “He’s just being more careful. Now that other Miraculous holders around the world are becoming aware of his existence, he cannot afford a _faux-pas_. He knows what he is up against, Marinette: the powers of the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses are not said to be the most powerful ones for nothing. He needs to be smarter, and more deadly.”

            “It’s been six years, since we’re fighting the same villain, Tikki. I’m starting to get bored,” Marinette snorted, taking another sip of her beverage. “We still have no clue on who he might be, or what he wants to do with the Miraculouses. We’re in a fucking _slump_!”

            “You used to battle an akuma per week, but only five to six super-akumas per year, during the first four years,” Tikki established. “Now, you are only battling super-akumas. Hawk Moth’s tactic has changed in the last two years. You need to ask yourself why.”

            “Maybe his civilian-self got busy with some stuff,” Marinette speculated sarcastically. “Maybe he became a dad for the first time? That thing has the inconvenience of keeping you pretty occupied, I heard,” she added, on a lighter note, and earned a frown from Tikki.

            “You shouldn’t joke about it, Marinette. This is serious, you know.”

            “I know, and I’m sorry, Tikki… It’s just… This whole Hawk Moth situation… It’s seriously starting to get on my last nerve. He’s like the freaking Zodiac killer or something.”

            “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll catch him eventually,” Tikki assured her, forever the optimist.

            “ _How_?” Marinette blurted out. “I’m a fashion designer, not a cop! I wouldn’t even know where to start…”

            “Why don’t you start by listing up all the things that you already know about him?” the giant red bug proposed, before flying down to rest on Marinette’s knees and wrapping herself in her owner’s blanket.

            “Well, that should be easy,” Marinette agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay, so, first of all, we know that Hawk Moth is in possession of the Moth Miraculous. He bullies Nooroo, his kwami, into doing his dirty deeds, and takes advantage of angry or saddened Parisians to build bloodthirsty super-akumas. He wants the earrings of the Ladybug and the ring of the Black Cat; because he heard some dumb legend stipulating that the holder of these two set of magical jewels would provide him with the power to alternate reality.”

            Tikki crossed her tiny arms and looked angrily at her owner. “You know it’s not just some ‘dumb’ legend, Marinette. It’s very real.”

            “Oh, yeah? What did the last person to hold both the ring and the earrings do with such a power?” Marinette replied, with a defiant look on her face.

            “Come on, Marinette. Don’t lose hope just yet,” Tikki encouraged her, in a softer voice. “I know you’re upset about this whole Hawk Moth masquerade but… You are the Ladybug Miraculous holder now, which means that you are literally the embodiment of good luck and white energy. You can’t let yourself be dragged down by someone like Hawk Moth. You defeat supervillains, and you _will_ defeat him. I assure you.”

            “Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette said with a smile, before cupping her kwami into her hands and bringing her towards her face to gently kiss her forehead. “Back to Hawk Moth. Cat Noir strongly believes that he wants to get ahold of our Miraculouses to pull a Kim Jong-un and turn the world into his own personal board game. And frankly? I’m starting to see his point. What? We know nothing about him, he never shows himself, because he’s probably a big fat coward, and can’t fight. I think it’s a safe assumption. Plus, we’re pretty sure that he stole the Moth Miraculous.”

            Tikki was about to make an annoyed remark, but Marinette’s last sentence caught her attention. “Why would think that?” she asked, curiosity shining in her wide indigo eyes.

            “Well… Master Fu says that the Moth Miraculous was lost in the explosion of the Guardians’ Temple. Hawk Moth was never given the brooch, or Fu would’ve known about him,” Marinette explained carefully. “What?”

            “How would a mundane human know anything about Miraculouses, at all?” Tikki insisted, and Marinette could swear that she heard the gears in her mind twiddling.

            “I suppose he did his research?” Marinette offered, still not getting the kwami’s point.

            “Okay, but how? All stories about Miraculouses are strictly kept off any human record. Unless…” Tikki thought out loud. “Marinette, we need to go to Master Fu.”

 

***

 

“Well, well, would you look at that!” Plagg cackled appearing out of thin air just in front of Adrien’s computer and looking at the screen with interest. “Isn’t that the cute girl from this morning?” he asked, knowing now perfectly, after years of living with him, just how to make his owner uncomfortable. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he kept on reading. “Founder of the _Lady Luck_ brand, specialized in casual chic, and semi-formal womenswear. Her boutique is located on Rennes street in the sixth district– Woo-oh! Now _that_ is kinda impressive, don’t you think? Felix’s courtesy, I presume. How sweet of him, helping out his struggling artist of a _girlfriend_ …”

            “Shut up, Plagg!” Adrien barked. “First of all, she is _not_ his girlfriend–”

            “Oh, you seem awfully sure about that,” Plagg cut him off, still floating between the computer screen and his owner’s face. He turned fully to meet his gaze and looked at him with a mixture of astonishing irritation and profound boredom on his tiny feline figure. “Why are you browsing through her men’s line? And don’t tell me it’s because you are looking for a new modeling gig.”

            “What? No, of course not, Plagg! I was just– uh… Seeing what she’s about, that’s all. She’s Felix’s friend… I was– I was curious,” Adrien blathered, mastering the art of crappy excuse-making.

            Plagg didn’t take shit. “Let me correct your two last claims,” the kwami droned. “What you surely meant was, ‘She’s hot… And I’m horny’.”

            “Come on, Plagg! That’s _so_ not true,” Adrien groaned while lying back in his chair.

            “You don’t think she’s hot?” Plagg asked innocently, his apple-green eyes still deadly serious.

            “Why are you doing this to me?” Adrien grunted, holding both his palms to his eyes. “It’s not like I did anything wrong!”

            “Yet.”

            “Whatever. I was just looking out for my brother,” Adrien straight up lied, before shooing away his kwami from his computer.

            “They’ve been friends for like… a _lifetime_ ,” Plagg countered. “If anything, _she_ should be looking out for Felix by cyber-stalking _you_!”

            “I’m not cyber-stalking her!” Adrien maintained. “And why do you care what I do anyway, all of the sudden?”

            Plagg frowned and his ears went flat across his head. He crossed his tiny paws over his very round belly, and let out a sound that strongly resembled a growl. That only picked on Adrien’s curiosity. “We’re out of cheese,” he answered bluntly, before dropping his gaze to the floor. “I like to harass you when I’m bored,” he admitted, looking back at him, a little more confident. “And since we’re out of food…”

            “How is that even possible? I fully stocked the mini-fridge only yesterday!” Adrien ranted.

            Plagg burped as an answer.

            Adrien rolled his eyes, before going back to his computer screen. “You glutton,” he sighed under his breath, though he was still pretty sure that the minuscule god has heard him.

            “So… Are you going to get me more camembert, or should I just continue to annoy you into getting me more camembert?” Plagg wondered before landing on Adrien’s shoulder. “’Cause I can do this all day. You know how much I love driving you crazy.”

            “Hush,” Adrien shushed, completely ignoring the kwami’s falsely outraged expression. “Oh! Look, my father was one of her very first investors…”

            “Oh, yeah,” Plagg said, and for a split of a second, he almost seemed interested by the latter fact. “You should probably talk to him about it… He must have lots of Intel of the matter– That, of course, if he hasn’t forgotten her name,” the kwami laughed, taking Adrien’s snarl as a sign of encouragement. “I’m sure if you ask Natalie nicely enough, she’ll be pleased to clear out around fifteen minutes of his _busy_ schedule so you could meet with him. You’ll probably not hear from her for two weeks before that happens, though…”

            “What do you want, Plagg?” Adrien cut him off, visibly extremely annoyed– To the cat-devil’s most intense satisfaction.

            Plagg flapped his invisible wings and Adrien felt a weight leave his shoulder, before sensing the kwami lending on the top of his head and spreading what has seemed to be a very small black-furred body entirely across his skull– Adrien knew that Plagg knew that he hated when the tiny god did this. “Duh. Camembert,” the latter answered, shoving his paws into Adrien’s hair. As he began to knead his scalp, Adrien suddenly became very aware of his claws.

            “All this eating is making you fat,” Adrien observed, still trying his best to ignore his kwami’s antics.

            “I cannot believe you just said that to my face,” Plagg bemoaned, stretching his arms and legs all over Adrien’s head in a dramatic fashion. “When have I ever been this mean to you, boy?”

            “Uh… You’re joking, right?” 

            “You _know_ how fond I am of my appearance, Adrien,” Plagg reminded him, shaming a sob.

            “Nope, you were serious,” Adrien realized with an exhausted sigh. “Plagg… Come on… Wait. How did I even become the bad guy in this scenario?” he asked to no one in particular, before reaching to his hair and unplugging Plagg from his very curly locks– He knew of course that, as a kwami, he could easily escape his grip, but, for a still unknown reason (Adrien was convinced that Plagg was too lazy to do so), he didn’t.

            “Bring me my cheese, Adrien. Camembert is my birthright,” Plagg pleaded, his eyes, containing no trace of human emotion whatsoever. “Or I’m giving you the Ladybug speech again,” he threatened cruelly.

            “Come on… Plagg…”

            “Many moons ago,” Plagg started out anyway, slipping out through Adrien’s fingers, “the Moth Miraculous was suspiciously activated after almost thirty years of straight up radio-silence. The last living Guardian of the Miraculouses then decided to take a chance, and handed the two most powerful set of Miraculouses to his Chosen-ones.” While talking, the little floating cat flew all across the room, fleeing Adrien’s determination to catch him, and shut him up. It was an impossible task, of course, for this speech was Plagg’s biggest pride and joy. “He thought they would make a good match and beat the crap outta the soon to be the new terror of Paris– That you _still_ haven’t defeated, BT-dubs,” he added, openly mocking the latest Black Cat Miraculous holder. “In any case… During the second attempt to an epically failed first mission, you, my friend, did the unimaginable and fell in love with your partner. A girl, FYI, who has absolutely _zero_ clue that you think about her every single freaking night, and moan her name in your sleep.”

            When Adrien came close to clasp him again, Plagg flew all the way up the veranda and took place on the highest shelf of his owner’s video games library, where he couldn’t reach him.

             “Seriously,” the kwami sighed, crossing his legs comfortably, and letting his enormous head rest on his front paws. “It’s depressing. I don’t think I can stand it anymore.” Plagg was about to continue but had to stop abruptly to watch the hilariously failed attempt of Adrien to climb over the handrail and jump towards him, with the unrealistic hopes of getting to him. Indeed, this ridiculous human-mess, and crappy excuse of a man fell flat on his stomach, and Plagg had to suppress an uncontrollable laugh when he realized that it was keeping him for pursuing his amazingly well-thought speech. “Anywho!” he exclaimed, clapping his four paws together, “I think the worst part is that you’re still super hung up on her, even after all these soul-crushing years of failing to confess your true feelings to her– A tragedy, at the very least. I gotta admit, however, that this whole situation shaped the loyal, audacious, kindhearted, and lonely, idiotic virgin that you are today,” he described, perfectly, if you asked him. “She’s probably married, you know. With kids, too,” he ended, twisting an imaginary knife down Adrien’s back.

            “I hate you,” was the latter’s response.

            “I care little for your disgusting displays of affections, my friend,” Plagg replied as he voluntarily dove into the void, just to have his invisible henchman-shaped wings catch him, right before he hit the floor _à la Adrien Agreste_. “I only care for cheese.”

            “Well, you’re not getting any,” Adrien retorted, slowly getting up on his feet– The fall will surely leave some bruises, he thought to himself. “You played all your cards, Plagg. Please, tell me, what else could you do to bother me even further? I hate to say it, but I think you’re losing your game, buddy.”

            Adrien regretted saying those words as soon as they got out. But it was too late, and he had lost, and Plagg’s grin was so terrifying Adrien had to talk himself out of jumping through the window. “Glad you asked,” the Devil’s spawn whispered, and it sounded just like a death sentence.

 

***

 

Okay, so, it has been exactly a rough thirty-six minutes since she and Tikki tumbled into Master Fu’s massage parlor to exchange a bunch of (she was seeing it now) ridiculous theories they came up with on the way here, and he still hasn’t voiced his opinions on the matter. In her head, Marinette has had the chance to sing the latest hit-song of Jagged Stone _The Guitar Where Your Heart Should Be_ about a dozen times at least, and the sound of her own voice was starting to drive her on edge.

            The tea was delicious– Though it didn’t make the silence more bearable. The room was so quiet, Marinette could hear herself breathe. Master Fu’s face was so indecipherable that she even had the time to imagine all kinds of possible worst-case scenarios– One of which included her spilling her tea on her mentor and, while trying to fix her act of clumsiness, just made everything ghastlier by setting the massage parlor on fire and losing the last remaining unassigned Miraculouses forever. Urgh. That was exactly the reason why she always insisted on keeping inflammable napkins out of her reach, and made a point to avoid all places with walls made of wood.

            “You know, Ladybug,” Master Fu finally said as he smoothly stroked his beard, “when I came to the abject realization that everything I once believed in, and fought for, was lost forever, turned to ashes in a fire that destroyed the last Guardians’ Temple, I knew immediately that I had to work all my life to repent myself from my mistakes, and reinstall my ancestors’ glory.” Marinette’s sad eyes encouraged her mentor with a smile, as his hand outlined the curves of his moustache. He smiled back discretely, took a deep breath, and drank a large sip of his tea. Marinette didn’t know if he was done talking yet, but wasn’t particularly eager to take a chance, and possibly interrupt what seemed to be an essential discourse. “For a long time I was convinced that all I was able to save from perish was this one chest of Miraculouses,” he went on, appointing to the gramophone slash secret Miraculous chest that laid on the dresser behind him, “and that I had to rediscover by myself all the secrets our legends held. But you come today, not only sharing your worries and uncertainties about yet an unclear future, but also carrying a glimpse of hope I thought was eternally gone, by announcing the best news I have received in the last sixty-seven years of my existence.”

            Marinette let out a sigh and shoved her hands under her knees to keep them from shaking. Master Fu was always one for a little drama, but we could say that the young woman was a naturally anxious person and wasn’t especially good at dealing with environmental stressors. “I’m sorry, Master, but I’m not sure that I’m uh… getting your point…” she admitted, a little ashamed.

            Master Fu let out a soft chuckle. “What I meant to say was that you raised an interesting point, when you said that Hawk Moth may have stolen the Moth Miraculous, because it suggests that he knows things about Miraculouses that he isn’t supposed to. Like their very existence, for instance,” he carefully explained, now holding his cup of tea in both hands to take in its exquisite aroma. “But Hawk Moth is not solely creating evil akumas and turning Parisians into supervillains for the sake of it. He has a purpose: he is after your earrings and Cat Noir’s ring.” He paused for what seemed to be an excruciatingly long minute, during which Marinette was able two sing the first two couplets of Jagged’s song.

            Master Fu was old, she kept telling herself. He liked long dramatic pauses and talking in metaphors. Whatever. If Beatrix Kiddo was able to put up with Pai Mei’s antics, then Marinette Dupain-Cheng could put up with Master Fu’s.

            “It is obvious that he knows the extent of their powers, and that he intends to use them,” he continued. “This leads us to two possibilities as regards to Hawk Moth’s identity; he either comes from a long dynasty of Miraculous holders, and has gone rogue, or he is in possession of much more than just the Moth Miraculous. An artifact, or some parchment of the sort that tales our legends, and taught him our way.” Master Fu paused again, and regarded Marinette through the cloud of steam that escaped his boiling beverage. “I’m leaning towards the second option, and I sincerely hope that my hunch is correct.”

            “How do you want me to handle the situation, sir?” Marinette asked, a sprinkle of determination shining brightly in her bluebell eyes.

            Master Fu could’ve answered right away, but instead took the time to observe his protégée. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been his loyal and dutiful student for the past six years. He has trained her, taught her everything he knows, made her into the fierce soldier that she is now, and today considered her as his own daughter. Over time, he has learned to read her. Marinette functioned best with direct, concrete instructions, and was deeply fond of well-organized to-do-lists. She understood, of course, the concept of poetry and wordy sentences, but that just didn’t work out for her, for she needed small, aimed, and clear orders. And so, Master Fu did just that. “I need you to find me that artifact. Steal it, if you must.”

            Marinette’s mouth popped open, her first instinct, convincing herself that she was dreaming. She couldn’t believe what her mentor was asking her to do. “Sir?”

            “I know perfectly what I’m asking, Ladybug,” Master Fu blurted out as he got up, the urge to defend himself making his whole body shiver. “And I know how odd and shady it seems, but… I really need you to trust me,” he begged, holding her gaze with tenacity, his hands, crossed behind his back, and Marinette just knew they were shaking as hard as hers. “Can you do that?” he kindly inquired, and Marinette awkwardly reached for her cup of tea. She circled her fingers around it, letting the heat of the porcelain warm up her suddenly very cold skin.

            Of course, she trusted Master Fu. She trusted him with her life, and would do anything for him… but theft? “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” she confessed in a whisper, her cheeks turning redder by the second. “I mean… where do I even look? What am I looking for–“

            “Master,” Wayzz’s voice called, and it was the first time either kwami unpredictably interfered in Marinette and Fu’s conversation. “Are you sure it’s wise?”

            Master Fu closed his eyes, frowning at himself, and Marinette could see the muscles of his jaw twitching. “Of course not,” he hissed between his teeth. “But I don’t know what else to do. If this _artifact_ is indeed in Hawk Moth’s possession, and he uses it for evil, then I– I would never be able to forgive myself. This could be the last of what is left of the Guardians’ Temple– This could also be our only chance to defeat him…”

            Marinette exchanged glances with Tikki. She knew her kwami blindly trusted in the Guardian– That was one of the reasons why Marinette felt comfortable enough around him.

            Master Fu has never let her down. He was judicious, clever, wise, and had given almost two centuries of his life to his cause, and his planet. He knew a lot, about lots of things, was always extremely cautious, and thought every single one of his actions thoroughly. Marinette looked up to him, constantly turning to him in times of doubts, chewing on his decisions, sometimes very difficult to make– like revealing himself to Cat Noir– and hoped one day she will be as sage as him… but Master Fu was still very human.

            He too questioned himself and his actions, at times.

            He too could be staggered by life’s turn of events.

            He too didn’t always know what to do.

            “I’ll do it,” she said in low voice, and she knew Master Fu had heard her, when his eyes flew right open. She blushed a little, not sure if she should go on, but Tikki shot her a very bright, encouraging smile. “I will search the city for this artifact, sir,” she promised, promptly bowing her head, as Master Fu took a step towards her. His face was soft now, tender, as if he was thankful for her understanding. “I mean, how big can Paris be, right?” she laughed, but it still sounded too sore for it to be considered a real laugh. Master Fu didn’t pry on it.

 

***

 

There were maybe four different pairs of tailor’s scissors spread out on the table Marinette was working on, one of which large enough to dig into thick cloth, and others, of smaller sizes, she used to cut off thread tails without damaging the fabric.

            Measuring tapes were all over the place, stretching pink and yellow graduated lines on the white floor tiles. Erasable pens and colorful weaving wire spools were displayed in front of her, while pieces of chalk rolled freely on the ground, right before getting crushed by the soles of her big boots, as Marinette ambled around her desk– They were simple plain chalks, the ones you could use on a chalkboard, because they were cheaper, she always said, and just as useful as tailor’s chalk, so she shrugged it off, and made a mental note to send Anthony to buy her some more, later.

            Marinette’s attire wasn’t exactly how you imagined that of a professional seamstress– She wore a hot pink apron with a huge heart-shaped side-pocket, where she let Tikki hide, alongside her seam ripper and tweezers, and a pair of chopsticks– which were admittedly perfect for turning inside-out corners. She firmly held two ballpoint needles between her teeth, and was so focused on her task, no one dared to disturb her.

            A month ago, one of her regular customers, someone that was fairly difficult to please, had ordered a _Lady Luck_ original. For two whole weeks, Marinette tried her best to come up with a ‘precious’, ‘out of the ordinary’ design that would content her client, and, after being fed up with the latter constantly refusing the hundreds of sketches she proposed, she drew this one’s as a joke, and nearly chocked when the buyer loved it. Marinette hated working with rhinestones and sequins, for the simple reason that she found them terribly ugly, and uncut to be considered as haute couture material, but the client was king, all this glitter brought out the ‘pizzazz’ of the outfit, and she had to comply.

            Her work was still however interrupted when someone pushed open the main entrance glass door, triggering the little bell Marinette had installed in a corner, and skipped boldly between the store mannequins, slapping an employee’s behind as they moved, before collapsing in one of the two chairs that framed Marinette’s desk.

            “Hey, Alya,” the latter welcomed, the needles in her mouth muffling the sound of her voice. The word ‘concentration’ was painted all over her face, and forbade her to even glance over at her best friend. “I thought we were meeting at five.”

            “It is half past five o’clock, Marinette,” Alya sighed as she rested her forehead on the table, for what seemed to be a well-deserved nap.

            “Oh. You’re late, then,” Marinette observed, while measuring the length of the dress’s skirt, and noting it down on a piece of paper.

            “Whatever,” the red-haired woman shot back. Her head currently felt way too heavy, full with words and scribble, and, as she laid it down on Marinette’s desk, seeking some kind of support, she successfully kept it from rolling off her weak, sore shoulders and falling to the ground. “You know, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she lazily went on, “I have been putting a lot of thought into it, and I just don’t think that being an adult is gonna work for me.”

            Alya continued to play dead for a little more than half-a-minute, before Marinette finally took her gaze off her dress and realized that her friend was lying atop of a table full of needles and other kinds of very sharp utensils. “Alya, careful!” she cried out. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” she slurred to herself, as she awkwardly tidied up the mess she did, urging Alya to straighten herself. “So, what’s the bad news?”

            “The usual, I guess,” Alya answered, slowly sinking into her seat. “They rejected my story, _again_ , my life sucks, and I’m so tired I can hear my own muscles conspiring against me, and plotting their escape-plan for when I’ll be asleep.”

            “Why? What happened?” Marinette inquired, as she circled her desk quickly and sat in front of her best friend. She reached out a hand that she placed on her knee in a comforting pat, but Alya just shrugged and looked away.

            “Yeah, well…” she sighed. “I’m just so sick of looking into my purse and not seeing twenty thousand euros…”

            Marinette let out a soft chuckle. “Come on. Don’t you think you’re exaggerating the whole thing a little bit?”

            “Marinette… I’m a _journalist_! I live off gossips and exaggeration!” Alya retorted, her hands on her hips, and Marinette couldn’t hold down a laugh. “And right now? I’m in urging need of coffee and Tequila,” she wittily went on.

            “You know those two things don’t really go together, right?” Marinette giggled, even if she was still kind of worried for her best friend.

            “How would _you_ know? You never drink,” Alya shot back, a nasty smirk twirling on her lips. “Besides,” she added confidently, “there is a drink called _Wake the Dead_ that is made from delicious Tequila mixed with a shot of espresso. You get one try to guess why it’s called what it’s called!”

            “How do you even know all that?” Marinette whined, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

            “Well, remember Nino? My boyfriend? The one who owns a _bar_?” Alya sassed her, before getting on her feet. “So? Are we moving or what? Those walls aren’t going to climb themselves!”

            Marinette snickered, stood up, and pulled her pink apron over her head. She left it on the table, alongside with the pincushion she had tied up around her wrist, and the thimble she wore on her middle finger. Discretely, she sneaked Tikki into her handbag, without Alya noticing. The latter was too busy with her phone anyway.

            Underneath the apron, Marinette was dressed all black– Black blouse, black jeans, black boots… The only hint of color one could glimpse at was the special shade of blue that brightened her eyes, and the set of emerald earrings she wore right next the black diamonds she never took off. Her raven hair was kept out of her face at all times, held together by two perfect French braids that pulled on the skin of her face and neck. Marinette also grew up to love makeup, and her smoky eyes were flawless.

            Every Thursday afternoon, Alya and her would go rock climbing at _Escalad’Indoor_ , an associative sports club in the fifth district. Usually, Alya would meet her at the boutique, and they would take the subway to get there. They both found it an excellent stress-relief, a tremendous workout, and a great bonding activity.

            “So, I finally got to meet Felix’s hot brother, yesterday,” Marinette shouted, firmly holding on to the rope attached to Alya’s harness, as the latter tried to make it to the top.

            “You know I don’t speak alien, Marinette. What does ‘hot’ mean in your language? Are you gonna try and bang him?” Alya shouted back, battling the urge to look down at Marinette’s face and catch a glimpse of her flustered self, struggling to cool down the heat that certainly already flushed her cheeks with pink. Instead, she focused her gaze on her goal, and hated herself for missing on the spectacle.

            “Oh, my God! Is your mouth filter broken again?” Marinette wondered out loud, as she tugged on the rope– Though the movement wasn’t sufficiently strong to make her friend lose balance, it was just enough to startle her. Marinette took pride in it.

            “I’m just curious, ya know!” Alya called out, trying to get back on track, and struggling to keep her pace– The wall was around fifty feet tall, and she once climbed it in under a minute. She was trying to beat her own record, before Marinette interrupted her, so, to salvage the few seconds she’d lost, she decided to skip a few climbing holds and jumped. It was a little reckless, she admitted, but it had worked. “You still haven’t answered the question, though,” she boldly hollered. “Are you gonna try and bang him?”

            “Will you stop it, already? I’m not gonna bang him; he’s Felix’s brother, for God’s sake!” Marinette shot back, as Alya finally touched the ceiling.

            Marinette carefully wrapped the ropes around her forearms, as a double-precaution, and started to lower down her best friend.

            “Forty-nine seconds,” she announced, handing the chronometer over to Alya, after the latter safely landed on the crash pad. “I think all this talk about Adrien distracted you,” she remarked, placing a hand on her hip.

            Alya smirked, and cheekily flapped her tongue. “’Adrien’, huh? Hot name, for a hot guy.”

            “Whatever,” Marinette snorted, as she unhooked the ropes from Alya’s harness and connected them to hers. “I have my eyes set on someone else, anyway,” she added, drowning her hands with white powdery chalk, to keep them from becoming too slippery.

            “Oh yeah, the mysterious guy that you work with…” Alya recalled, in a derisive voice. “He _surprisingly_ has no name, no known address, and the one thing that you ever told me about him, is that he’s the one that gets you your clients,” she continued, a little more seriously. “Pretty sketchy, don’t you think? I, for once, have trouble believing you. I’m not sure the guy even _exists_.”

            “Oh, he exists alright,” Marinette purred, unable to hold back a grin.

            “Fine. Test-time. What’s his eye color?” Alya suddenly asked, taking her a little bit off guard.

            “Green,” Marinette answered without thinking, and regretted it almost immediately.

            Alya's lips curled into a quirk smile as her best friend’s cheeks turned even redder, and, before she could pursue with the questioning, Marinette turned to face the wall, ordering her to start the chronometer– Marinette was taller, and more athletic that Alya, given all her years of Ladybug-ing all around the city. She could climb that wall in under thirty seconds, and if she really put herself into it, she could reach the ceiling in a little less that fifteen seconds. Even without the magic of her costume, she was stronger and faster that the average athlete, and her stamina was for the foremost unflagging.

            She let out a deep sigh, as she began to climb the wall. _Green_. She tried to avoid it, push away the thought, but her toes felt cold, and butterfly wings were already tickling her stomach. _Green_. The word kept flashing up in her mind– She knew it was a lost cause the second she pictured him in her head. She frowned, her jaw tightened, as she pushed herself higher, in a desperate attempt to leave the image of him behind.

            She didn’t know his face– She didn’t know anything about him. She only knew that she trusted him more than anyone in the world, maybe even more than she trusted Master Fu.

            And she knew that he had gorgeous green eyes that glowed in the dark, and unsettled her every time she had the misfortune to cross them.


	3. The Black Leathered Gear

When Marinette ringed the bell to Felix’s apartment that evening, she wasn’t expecting Adrien to be the one to invite her in. She didn’t do a good job at hiding her surprise either, as her eyebrows flew across her forehead, all the way to her hairline. She blushed when he smiled at her, and shyly handed him the aluminum covered dish that she was holding. “I-It’s l-lasagna!” she forced out when she realized her words wouldn’t unhook themselves off her esophagus that easily. “I made some lasagna,” she repeated, as she turned even pinker. “F-For Felix.”

            “Wow, thanks! That’s uh… v-very thoughtful of you. Thank you!” Adrien praised, and Marinette was probably imagining the whole thing, but he suddenly seemed rather flustered and– Was his cheeks naturally this red?

            “Y-you’re welcome!” she exclaimed. Because she wasn’t really sure what to do with her hands now that they were empty, she made a safe choice and shoved them down her jean’s pockets, then tried to smile.

            Adrien gulped, before guiding her to the kitchen, where he had left Felix earlier. The latter immediately straightened up at the sight of Marinette, trying hard not to choke on his own tongue as he greeted her.

            This Marinette was different from the Marinette that had to pick him at Max’s, yesterday morning. This Marinette was wide awake, her hair was styled and sprayed, and she was wearing makeup. As he and Adrien just stared at her, they would both come to the same conclusion: no one paired leather jacket and high heels better than Marinette.

            “I stopped by to see how you were doing,” she said, hopping on the kitchen table.

            Despite the fact that she was specifically addressing him, Felix noticed that she wasn’t looking at him at all, but rather at his brother Adrien, who was leaning against the fridge, and gazing back at her like he was stuck in a mesmerizing state of pure attraction. Felix cleared his throat to snap them both out of it, and Marinette’s head instantly lurched back to him.

            “So, uh… H-how are you doing?” she asked, rubbing her hands together, to try and stifle the quite embarrassing situation Felix has just caught her in.

            The latter took a sip of his beer– He offered her one, of course, but she didn’t drink– saving himself a couple more seconds to think of an effective way to spit out an answer without spluttering. “I’m doing _well_. Well and good, _very_ good… T-Thanks…” he blathered, before shoving the tip of his bottle into his mouth to keep it from yammering even more absurdities– It was so much easier to talk to her when he was drunk. “A-and y-you? How about y-you? Any n-news on the Rhinestone Witch?” he inquired, desperate to give up his speaking turn.

            Marinette smiled proudly, and was just about to talk, when Adrien cut her off. “What is a rhinestone witch?” he wondered stupidly, and Felix was suddenly taken by the insatiable urge to crush his skull when Marinette’s smile only widened.

            “She’s one of my regulars, actually,” she answered, chuckling.

            “Why call her a witch, then?” Adrien queried.

            “We don’t call her a witch,” Felix corrected, and Marinette let out another giggle, “but rather _The Rhinestone Witch_. Note the difference.”

            “Don’t worry… It’s a fun story,” Marinette assured Adrien, as he frowned. She then glanced over at Felix, asking him to recount the anecdote.

            The latter was quite happy to oblige. “You know that Marinette holds her own boutique, right? Well, she has this client– This _terrible_ , impossible client that simply _adores_ her work. We take it she was invited to a rather important event of some sort, and naturally asked Marinette for an original _Lady Luck_ design that matched her ‘moxie’. So, Marinette did what was requested, and came up with nearly a _thousand_ different designs that were _all_ declined, before she finally gave up, crumbled down to the Witch’s level, and added rhinestones to one of her dresses…”

            “I did it as a prank, mostly,” Marinette went on. “But she _loved_ it, and… I kinda, well… _had_ to like, _make_ the dress afterward, so… I guess the joke’s on me… I’m telling you though, a real freaking _nightmare_.”

            “I don’t understand,” Adrien admitted, after swallowing a mouthful of beer. “What’s so horrible about rhinestones?”

            Marinette’s expression suddenly changed. Her smile dropped at once, replaced by an extremely serious look that she used to overawe her best friend’s brother. “I don’t think you are ready for this story,” she answered, as she slowly crossed one leg over the other, observing him through her long, thick eyelashes– He gulped, and had to put his weight on his other leg, just to steady himself.

            “O-oh… I’m– I’m so s-sorry… I didn’t mean to overstep, or anything…” he apologized quickly, his cheeks blushing as he spoke.

            Then, against all odds, Marinette burst out laughing. “Don’t worry… You’re not!” she assured him, giggling. “I’m just messing with you. Almost as entertaining as making fun of Felix…” she added. “ _Relax_ , it’s a compliment.”

            Adrien wasn’t sure what to say, so… he didn’t say anything. His brother took pity on him– He, for a fact, knew just how intimidating Marinette could be, and, at times, how difficult it could be to even hold eye-contact with her for more than a minute. “Marinette had this high school ‘archnemesis’, Chloe Bourgeois,” he explained, and one could hear the quotation marks in his voice. “She only wore _designer_ clothes… that she would eventually ruin by adding tonnes of rhinestones to them. She didn’t do it herself, of course. She paid someone to do it.”

            “A real insult to the fashion industry,” Marinette remarked, rolling her eyes, as the horrific memory popped in her mind.

            “One time, Marinette made a t-shirt that spelled ‘ _Screw C.B._ ’ on the back, with rhinestones,” Felix continued, a hint of pride in his voice.

            “Seriously?” Adrien wondered, surprisingly very impressed.

            Marinette shrugged. “The girl was _obnoxious_. Made my high school life a living _hell_. I wore the t-shirt several times before she finally fathomed that I was straight-up insulting her, and accused me to the principal’s.”

            “Ouch… What happened then?” Adrien wanted to know.

            “I tried to talk my way out of it– I said ‘C.B.’ didn’t stand for _Chloe Bourgeois_ but rather for _carte banquaire_ , and that I was militating against capitalism and all that crap…” Marinette outlined briefly. “But uh– Mr. Damocles wasn’t buying it and well… He gave me detention. First time of my life. Left a big stain on my perfect school records,” she added, with a wink. “But hey, it was senior year, mistakes were made… I blame it all on Felix– Let’s say it’s all in the past!”

            “Hey!” Felix protested. “What do I have to do with any of this?”

            Marinette shrugged. “You were the one who gave me the idea,” she explained simply, as she flashed him with her most innocent smile. “I sold the dress by the way, and she is going to wear it to the gala. There is going to be _a lot_ of press– Let’s just hope that she’ll talk about the boutique. Anyway, Alya and Nino are throwing me a party next weekend, to celebrate,” she recalled, after a couple minutes of quiet. “It would be great if you could swing by.” Felix blushed– Marinette always invited him to parties that he could never attend because of work. This time, however, he happened to be free. “Even if it’s just for half an hour,” she insisted, like she always did. “I know you have a lot of work, and all–“

            “I’ll be there,” he cut her off, smiling wildly, as her eyes rounded in surprise.

            “Really? That’s amazing!” she almost shouted, jumping down on the floor, and hurrying into his arms to kiss his cheek. In those fair seconds, Felix undoubtedly died… before coming back to life to realize that she was still in his arms. “Oh, my _God_! That makes me _so_ happy!” she exclaimed again, still cheering, as she took several steps backward to give him back his personal space.

            Then, she turned to Adrien, her face, burning hot, and asked him if she could count on his presence too.

            “Me?” he asked incredulously, the colors of his face, now slowly altering to match Marinette’s redness.

            “Yeah,” she answered with a wicked smile and her hands on her hips. “No one should be denied the right to watch me on a dance floor,” she teased cheekily.

            Oh. My. _God_.

            Was she _flirting_ with him? Seriously? _Him_?

            Felix didn’t even bother to pay attention to Adrien’s answer, way too preoccupied with the horrifying spectacle, as he sluggishly began to accept the fact that love was nothing more than a blind whore with mental disease and absolutely no sense of humor.

 

***

 

“Okay, so… if I was an ancient artifact, possibly a book, containing top-secret information that could give you access to a higher power… Where would I be?” Ladybug wondered out loud, as Cat Noir was quietly staring at the sunset.

            Ladybug and Cat Noir often met around this time, once every two weeks, for patrol– They were accustomed to do it more frequently during their early years of superhero-ing, but when Hawk Moth decided to calm down his game, they just didn’t see the use to over-exhaust themselves and guard the city every single night. Some things never changed, however, and they always settled on the rooftop of the Montparnasse Tower to have a better view of Paris– The Eiffel Tower was higher, of course, but it was surrounded by many parks and green spaces, whereas the Montparnasse Tower sprouted right in the middle of the capital’s urban life.

            “Uh… On a shelf?” Cat Noir prattled.

            Ladybug let out an annoyed sigh. “Are you even taking this seriously?”

            “No,” he admitted very easily, to Ladybug’s surprise. He then turned around, walked towards where she was sitting, and took place next to her.

            They usually never stayed more than a quarter-hour on the top of the skyscraper, came empty-handed and with the sole purpose to get this thing over with as quickly as possible, but, this time, Ladybug had brought with her tones of scribbly notes that she scattered all across the rooftop’s ground. When Cat Noir had asked what all that was about, she simply told him that patrol could wait, that, ironically, nothing ever happened when they were geared and rounding the city anyway, and that they had more urgent matter to discuss.

            “I think this is all very stupid,” Cat Noir went on. “Don’t you think that if we had the means to discover Hawk Moth’s identity, we would have done it by now?”

            “We are not trying to figure out his identity,” Ladybug reminded him. “We are looking for an ancient book that he may possess.”

            “Yeah, and this book’s emplacement will lead us to discover Hawk Moth’s identity,” Cat Noir replied. “So, po-ta-to, po-tah-to.” Ladybug rolled her eyes at Cat Noir’s snarky comment and tried her best to ignore him. He smirked and unhooked his stick from his belt to distract himself with it, as he leaned over the miles of blackened papers Ladybug had spread out in front of them. “What are those notes even about?” he inquired curiously. “The path you set is very incoherent.”

            “That’s… because I haven’t set a path yet,” Ladybug confessed. “But someone once told me that if I’m not so sure about the way to solve a problem, I should begin by listing everything that might help me in doing so.”

            “So… You just listed all the akumatized victims that we have fought during the past _six years_?!” he exclaimed incredulously, as he looked over the hundreds of different names, costumes, and powers Hawk Moth had given to disturbed Parisians all around the city. “Are you _insane_?”

            “Possibly,” she replied, and, as Cat Noir just stared at her with complete disbelief, and maybe a hint of admiration, she yawned heavily, stretching her arms over her head, and laid down on the cold concrete. “I’ll also admit that I haven’t slept much this week… But this is important.” She gazed up at the orange sky, finding the hard stone she was resting on weirdly comfortable, but, as she was just about to fall asleep, she was reminded by Cat Noir’s presence and hurried herself to a sitting position.

            “You know you’re not making any progress when you waste your time like that,” he retorted. “This list won’t get you anywhere, and this operation? Is straight-up _bullshit_ ,” he snorted and earned a threatening frown from Ladybug. “Hey, it’s fine if you disagree with me, M’Lady. I can’t force you to be right,” he crackled, as she continued to stare at him furiously.

            “You know, Cat Noir, sometimes, you inspire my inner serial killer,” she mumbled, battling the urge to strangle her partner.

            “Well, as a Freudian would say, you should channel all that dark energy and turn it into art,” the latter replied as if his comebacks were sitting on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be worded.

            “That was lame,” Ladybug remarked, trying desperately to hide a sneer.

            Cat Noir shrugged. “Eh… To be fair, you’re not giving me much to work on.”

            Ladybug rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that evening, and searched her documents for something interesting, nagging Cat Noir to do the same– If she has brought her notes along with her; it was because she wanted his views and thoughts on the matter. “It’s maybe not much, but I think that I have something…” she mentioned, as she pensively scratched her eyebrow through the fabric of her mask. “Picture that. We’ve been fighting Hawk Moth's akumas for over six years now, right? But not as many as we used to when we started.” He nodded carefully, not yet quite sure to get her point. “Something happened, I’m sure of it. Something happened and forced him to back off a little bit.”

            “His akumas are stronger now,” Cat Noir replied. “Maybe it’s taking him more energy to build them and keep them in control… and he then needs some time to recuperate?”

            “Not if his kwami is well fed,” Ladybug countered. “When we transform, we are not taping into our own energy but into that of our kwamis,” she reminded him. “That’s why we never get tired and can climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower… We wouldn’t stand a chance without our costumes…”

            “Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know that I work out,” he retorted, flexing an arm to show off his bicep.

            Ladybug couldn’t bite down a giggle. “I’m pretty sure that if I pushed your helpless civilian-self off this roof, you’ll crash and spread your guts on the ground like a fucking pancake, and I’d have to go around looking for another Cat Noir to work with.”

            Cat Noir let out a huff. “Strong words,” he remarked, a narrow smile on his face. “But there’s not a chance you’ll actually do that. You’ll miss me too much…”

            “Wanna bet on that?” she wittily asked, snapping her head at him, and suddenly, every ounce of confidence that shaped her poise vanished, as she recognized the closeness that tied both their faces together.

            Cat Noir was here, _inches_ away from her, and all she could see were his eyes, his gorgeous, amazing eyes that she always made a point to avoid. But right now, they were staring back at her, drowning her in all this green, their fluorescent light, making their way up through her veins, all the way until it reached her brain, and shattering every last piece of self-awareness that she struggled to hold on to. A thousand different emotions scarred her skin at once when she realized that she was trapped, that those glorious eyes were her new prison.

            “I–,” she tried to say, and she wasn’t breathing, and all her words simply died out when her body strained a frantic attempt to take in a gasp of air.

            The whole world went silent again, and everything around them was fire and darkness.

            This was exactly the reason why she never held his gaze– She didn’t trust herself to find her way back to reality. He was mesmerizing, enthralling, he guided her into an irresolvable labyrinth where she would happily lose herself, and relinquish life altogether.

            “Y-your l-luck-lucky cha-harm!” Cat Noir suddenly stuttered, snapping Ladybug out of her trance. He was blushing hard, his cheeks, almost dark enough to match his costume, and it was only when Ladybug jerked back that he was able to try and steady his heartbeat.

            “Uh… w-what?” she asked, as she was forcing herself back to life.

            “It always manages to get us out of desperate situations… Why don’t we give it a try?” he proposed, scratching the back of his neck.

            “Um… But then my transformation will wear off…” she reminded him.

            “It’ll give you the night off. I can manage patrol on my own, you know. I’m a big boy,” he replied, with a snarky smirk on his wet, very pink lips…

            Ladybug shook her head to get rid of the sentiment. Everything was so hot suddenly, and the air was so dry, and their chemistry was off, and, as awkwardness was eating them alive, they both were immediately very aware of the rupture it caused on the bond that linked their spirits together. “I– Are you sure?”

            “Yeah! Besides, I’ll have Paris all for myself. Who wouldn’t like that?”

            Ladybug didn’t argue– She was way too tired to jump and run all around the city today anyway. She nodded, stood up, unhooked her yo-yo from her waist and tossed in the air. “Lucky Charm!” she called to the sky, before catching the map it threw back at her.

            “What is it?” Cat Noir wanted to know, already on his feet.

            “It’s a… map of the city?” she answered, still unsure about what to do with it. She raised her head, searching for clues, any object that would inexplicably appeal to her like it always did, and her notes began to sparkle in unison with the map between her hands. “Of course!” she exclaimed abruptly, as she hurried to her knees and crouched over her memoranda. She grabbed a pen that was hidden among the papers, and spread out the map in her lap, as Cat Noir squat down to watch her over her shoulder. “All these akumas _do_ have a thing in common… Look,” she went on, drawing Cat Noir’s attention on the dozens of little circles that she started to place on the map. “Remember Stoneheart? Our very first akuma? Both times he was akumatized, it was right… Here! At the  _Dupont_ _High School_ , in the third district.”

            “Okay…”

            “Same thing for Reflekta and the Evillustrator, Dark Blade, the Horrificator, and Princess Fragrance!” she listed excitedly. “They were all turned here, in the third district. And, tell me, Cat Noir, what luxury hotel is right next to this high school? _The Grand Paris_ , where Antibug, Pixelator, and the Guitar Villain came into existence.”

            “Okay… But what about the Pharaoh and Mr. Pigeon? Both of them were in the first district when they turned. One was in the Louvre, and the other in the Tuileries Gardens,” Cat Noir countered. “Same for Dark Cupid, and Lady WiFi– Both of them were around the Pont Neuf when Hawk Moth targeted them.”

            “Yes, exactly!” Ladybug almost shouted out.

            “I– I gotta admit I’m not sure I’m following your track, M’Lady…” Cat Noir confessed.

            “ _All_ akumatized victims gather around the heart of Paris. The less dangerous the akuma is, the far away from the center it is. Copycat, for example? A joke compared to… let’s say the Puppeteer. He was akumatized right here, in the Luxembourg Garden, in the sixth district. Whereas the latter was turned at the T.V. station, as Simon Says and Stormy Weather did–”

            “The T.V. station is located in the fourth district,” Cat Noir realized, taking a closer look to the map his partner was holding. “That’s it! There’s our path!” he blurted out, finally catching on Ladybug’s vibe. “The only akumas that we could consider ‘far from the center of Paris’ were turned in the seventh district, like Timebreaker, and The Mime, who both appeared in the Champs-de-Mars, next to Eiffel Tower. I mean… I never heard of any akuma popping out in the suburbs… have you?”

            “No. Which means that Hawk Moth’s powers have a radius limit,” Ladybug guessed. “And it all comes down to the first four districts of Paris… That’s where the really old and rich people live, right? Maybe he didn’t steal the brooch after all. Maybe he bought it?” Her train of ideas was suddenly cut short by the first beep of her earrings. She looked back at Cat Noir, careful not to meet his eyes, and he understood immediately.

            “Go,” he said, putting a very warm hand on her shoulder that would certainly leave a burn on her skin–

            “Keep the notes,” she told him, as she got on her feet, spinning her yo-yo in the air beside her. “They’re copies of what I have at home,” she explained, before jumping off the roof, as her chanting earrings let out another beep.

 

***

 

As ten unfamiliar fingers gently slid down his chest, clawing impeccably polished nails into the fabric of his clothes, Adrien closed his eyes, and imagined they were Ladybug’s– After all, the model he was paired up with stood behind him, trying her best to unbutton his shirt without appearing completely awkward and oafish, and, as hard as he might try to make out her face without turning around, he couldn’t. Ladybug touched him, sometimes– Granted, it consisted for the most of friendly shoulder-pats and platonic side-hugs, but, still– Even the smallest contact with her sent thousands of raging thunderbolts slicing off his electrified skin.

            He stayed still, and had to remember to breathe, as another pair of perfectly manicured hands slowly crept up his legs to hug his inner thighs, before reaching up to his belt to yank it off audaciously. Ladybug has already, more than once, taken off Cat Noir’s belt. But it was never in this kind of hot, aggressive, hungry way he always wanted her to reach for him. Most of the time, she would just ask him for it, and it was never because she enjoyed seeing him tail-less and slightly unbalanced, or missing a key element of his costume– She used it to fight off akumas by enhancing the niftiness of her lucky charm.

            He tried to ignore the warm breath that scratched his neck, and the sudden rush of cold air that slammed against his bare stomach as his shirt flew open, and his white, milky flesh was finally exposed. A head rose out of nowhere, attached to the almost naked body of a third woman who was kneeling in front of him, and the seamless shape of her black-coated lips came pressing against his bellybutton, leaving there the impression of a sweet and soured kiss.

            Ladybug had kissed him once. Or so, he was told– He was under the spell of an akuma and a kiss was apparently the only thing that could set him free. He would have given anything, he thought, to go back in time, right now, and force himself awake just so he could save the taste of her mouth into his long-term memory.

            It was the day he almost confessed his feelings to her, he remembered, as he opened his eyes again to stare into the lens. But her Miraculouses started beeping, and she had to leave, and he was _so_ nervous he… He wasn’t even thinking straight, and his brain had just stopped functioning altogether the second she crossed his path.

            He told her to forget the whole thing, and, ever since, had been waiting for another occasion to present itself.

            Yesterday was the chance he was looking for. And, he blew it. Why? Because he was a goddamned idiot who just happened to suddenly forget how words worked.

 

As far as Gabriel Agreste was concerned, only black was the new black. Adrien wasn’t one to complain, of course– After all, black suited him best.

            “I’m _sorry_ , but this just _isn’t_ working,” the photographer groaned, walking away from his camera holder in an angry pace.

            Adrien relaxed, let out a discrete yawn, before stepping out of the décor, followed by the three other models with whom he was sharing the spotlight. He didn’t care much for Vincent’s tantrums, and ignoring him has always worked for him so far.

            “What seems to be the problem?” Natalie asked in the most monotonous tone, as if, just like Adrien, she found Vincent’s antics tedious.

            For as long as he could possibly remember, Natalie had always been his father’s assistant. She was tall and skinny and was an undefeated fetch champion. She didn’t know or didn’t dare to think of her own, and only obeyed Gabriel’s orders. Adrien didn’t know much about her– Not that he ever bothered asking. Talking with her was stultifying, and she always had that dull look on her face.

            “This _whole_ photo shoot is the problem!” Vincent yelled, his ears, burning red.

            Natalie only stared at him. She was holding a tablet that showed a picture of Gabriel Agreste– Or so Vincent thought until it began to talk. “Stop stalling,” it told him. “I am paying you by the hour. Make it quick, so we can get back to work.”

            This tablet, Adrien thought, perfectly depicted his relationship with his father– Professional, mostly business-oriented, and cold.

            “Mr. Agreste, there is no other way for me to put it,” Vincent started, lifting a hand to rest on his forehead in a dramatic pose. “Your new winter collection is dreadful, and not even _moi_ can do anything to make it look good!”

            “Excuse me?” Gabriel growled, visibly insulted.

            “Black is the new black is an _awful_ theme,” Vincent was brave enough to pursue– Gabriel Agreste’s title or reputation clearly didn’t mean anything to him, and he never missed an occasion to share his unwanted opinions with the rest of the world. To be truthful, that was one of many reasons why Gabriel always insisted on working with him– Vincent was always up to date in his fashion readings, and knew instantly how to use his models’ best assets to entice potential buyers. “Black is not the new black, and black will never be the new black again. _Lady Luck_ is the new black.”

            “What are you talking about?” Gabriel hissed– He was way too proud to admit that Vincent’s point of view actually mattered to him, at least most of the time and that he took his critiques for the more serious.

            Weirdly enough, Vincent’s complains were what was keeping _Agreste Designs_ in business. Gabriel was a perfectionist– He didn’t do well with negative feedback.

            One time, Vincent didn’t like a blouse he had designed for his spring collection. Seventy-two hours later, Gabriel had come up with an entirely new line, which had then perceived an incredible success.

            “Haven’t you heard? _Lady Luck_ made the cover of _Vogue Paris_ , _L’Officiel_ and _Marie Claire_  only last week! After the dress that was worn by Andrea Moreau at the _Autumn Ball Opening Ceremony_? _Everyone_ is talking about her and her ‘rhinestone cascade’!” Vincent almost shouted, and Gabriel was slowly guessing what he was getting to. “She is to fashion what Rene Descartes was to philosophy, what Victor Hugo was to literature!” he exclaimed, mirroring great theatrical gestures.

            “And how does this concern me in any way?” Gabriel spat.

            “I was thinking of a collaboration,” Vincent boldly requested.

            Adrien had modeled his father’s designs his whole life– He could complete an average of ninety poses in a minute and a half. He wasn’t difficult to work with; he loathed photo shoots to the point that he just wanted them to be over as quickly as humanly possible. So, he never questioned the photographer’s choices, the clothes they made him wear, or the decisions of the makeup artist. He just walked into the décor and tried his best not to waste anyone’s time.

            One thing he picked up while working with his father for ten years, Gabriel Agreste didn’t do ’collaborations.’ So Vincent was either extremely stupid or a real-life genius, for just mentioning it.

            “Felix,” Adrien greeted, as he walked towards his dressing table, where his brother was waiting for him. “I’m… surprised to see you here.”

            “I’m the head of _Agreste Designs’_ communication department,” he answered, in the same monotonous, cold, and formal tone Gabriel Agreste always used– His brother was quite flustered by it. “My job is to supervise these kinds of… events.”

            “No, I know– It’s just that… I thought that you were… I thought that you quit,” Adrien stuttered, his left hand reaching the back of his head to nervously scratch his nape.

            “There’s a month notice policy, you know,” Felix reminded him, lifting up an eyebrow as if he found him just ridiculous.

            “Right,” Adrien said, his gaze dropping to the ground. “So… you’re still not changing your mind, then… huh?”

            “Afraid not.”

            “Do you know where you’ll be working next?” Adrien wanted to know. “If I may ask,” he then added swiftly.

            “I have received a couple of job offers,” Felix told him, his posture always oh-so-very straight, still, studied, like the perfect little egotistic snob their father raised him to be. Adrien sighed– _He_ was supposed to be the stuck-up model who posed even with no cameras around, for God’s sake. “ _Versace_ wants to work with me. Can you imagine?”

            “Yeah, of course,” Adrien assured him with no hesitation. “You’re a hard worker, and you’re passionate about what you do. They’d be more than lucky to have you.”

            Felix nodded slightly, and Adrien almost caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips. “Yes. I think I’ve given enough time and energy to _Agreste Designs_. I’m happy with the work I’ve accomplished here, but I think it’s time for me to move on, and think bigger.”

            “Yeah, I get it, I guess.”

            When they were children, Felix and Adrien used to be very close– See, they weren’t allowed to go to school, and rarely met anyone their age, because of their parents’ hermetic, inaccessible and very adult world. They were basically each other’s everything. They would spend hours playing make-believe in the mansion’s gardens, running around in the dirty grass, and staining mud all over their extremely expensive clothes.

            One time, when they were about five and seven, Felix managed to sneak them out of the house, and took his brother to a walk around the city. They found their way to the nearest playground where other kids taught them rules of new games they then had to revise to play alone together. Their parents were hysterical when the police finally found them, and Felix was severely punished for his misconduct– But it was all worth it, he was able to convince himself, because Adrien was offered a crepe and got to see what monkey bars looked like up close. Their little escapade took place three years before their mother’s desertion. Their father had never really provided them with an explanation for that, by the way– He only decided that speaking of her was no longer allowed.

            When he began to lock himself up in his office, almost neglecting his children, Felix made the oath to always take care of his little brother, to make sure that, every night, he was going to sleep with a smile on his face, and to verify that everything he coveted was indeed supplied to him– Nothing was too big, if it kept him from thinking about their mother’s leaving, or their father’s constant malingering.

            There were still pictures of her everywhere around their house. Felix has one time tried to take them off– He almost fought his father to do so, but the latter remained relentless.

            To this day, Gabriel Agreste was still waiting for his wife’s return, whereas his elder son has already grieved her death, and knew in his core that if her ghost were ever to come back, it wouldn’t be welcomed.

            “So, uh… How’s M-Marinette?” Adrien shyly asked, and Felix’s posture stiffened even more.

            Both of them began to grow apart when Adrien turned fourteen years old and made it a habit to run away. The first time he slipped out of his bodyguard’s surveillance, he just wanted to go to school, and had been caught immediately. The second time, he was more cautious, and disappeared for a whole week– No one knew where he was, and Gabriel was on the verge of contacting the Bureau. But the last time he went missing, he returned two months later, which he had spent at a farm, in southern France. While his father made his best to ignore the whole thing, Felix had gone completely mad– He was so scared to relive his mother’s loss all over again that, when his brother came back, he couldn’t bring himself to even talk to him.

            He knew he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Adrien, so he had decided to walk out on him, vacate the family home, and move in a new apartment in the fifth district, far away from all that Agreste poison. It was a controversial initiative, he had to admit, but it gave him some kind of control over the whole situation that he desperately needed in order not to fall apart.

            Now, Marinette was practically begging him to reconnect with his brother, so he tried his best to make some efforts, because he owed her so much, he always told himself, even if he knew that it wasn’t the only reason.

            “Wh-what about her?” Felix shot back, clenching his hands to fists to keep them from trembling– The mention of Marinette’s name always managed to undo him somehow.

            Adrien shrugged. “I… I was just trying to make conversation…”

            “She’s uh… She’s fine. She’s _perfectly_ fine,” Felix answered keenly, his cheeks, burning hot.

            The sight amused his brother a little bit. “I heard her face is all over the fashion press.”

            “Y-yeah… Her rhinestone cascade was… _peculiar_. She just spent a hectic weekend, with all those interviews and photo shoots she had to attend to…” Felix said. “Nino and Alya decided to throw her an even bigger party on Saturday.”

            “Uh… yeah, about that… I don’t think I’m going to that thing…” Adrien asserted.

            Felix’s jaw flew open for he was about to say something, but the ringtone of his phone interrupted him. The screen read the name of Gabriel Agreste.

            “You should take that,” Adrien assured him. “Vincent is calling us back, anyway…”

            As his brother began to walk away, Felix was surprised to find himself reaching to grab his wrist– Adrien was probably bewildered the most, though. His phone continued to ring, and he continued to ignore it, and when he realized he was still holding on to Adrien, he swiftly let go of him. He wanted to convince him to show up at the party– Because he knew that Marinette wanted him there, and he was probing for some clever arguments that would make him change his mind… A lifetime elapsed, and Felix thought Adrien was going to leave before he even managed to get out a proper sentence, but the latter waited, patiently, and tried to encourage him with a soft smile. “You should come,” Felix finally blurted out, and, against all odds, it was enough to persuade his brother to be there.


	4. Physical properties of genuine attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I like physics... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

No one really worked on Wednesdays, did they? Wednesdays were basically the Friday evenings of the middle of the week… Schools gave their students a half-day off, shop clerks took longer lunch breaks, restaurants only supplied their first service beginning the late afternoon, and cinema tickets were markedly cheaper.

            Despite all that unfortunately, Nadja Chamack was still unable to pick up her daughter from school, so she called Manon’s ex-babysitter Marinette, with whom she stayed in great terms, emergently, to ask her if she was available.

            Marinette had her boutique to run, of course, but she also had several employees working under her, who would be happy to take the reins for a couple of hours, and she was in urgent need of a breather anyway. So, she agreed.

            Even if she wasn’t her babysitter anymore, Marinette still hung out with Manon whenever she could– They had lunch twice, maybe thrice a month to catch up on each other’s lives (Manon was now in ninth grade and one of Miss Bustier, Marinette’s former teacher at Dupont, most promising students). Marinette was also always the first person Manon invited to her birthday parties, and the little girl she once knew has indeed grown up to be a very smart, intuitive, and beautiful young adolescent.

            The Richelieu-Louvois public library was a nice-looking edifice located in the second district, just a couple streets away from Manon’s school, and that tourists often overlooked– It was therefore typically vacant and quiet. Marinette and Manon decided to sit at a table there, to wait for Nadja to come and pick up her daughter, who didn’t want to go home just yet, and Marinette offered her young friend to help her out with some homework in the time being.

            That was when Adrien spotted them– He was looking over some historical books on French Kings and the French Revolution (he might as well, he thought, since he was stuck here anyway– It was the only place his bodyguard didn’t come looking for him), when he saw Marinette walk into the library. He almost shied away and hid between the shelves to try and avoid her– Marinette was _way_ too pretty for him to just walk up to her and start a conversation. Plus, it wasn’t like he really knew her all that well… She was his brother’s closest friend, sure, but he only officially met her last week, and had seen her once since then. He didn’t think he had just yet earned the right to force her to endure some boring small talk and dreary chitchat– He didn’t even trust himself _not_ to crumble under her gaze…

            Adrien didn’t really have a problem with addressing people in general… he genuinely liked to befriend them, but, as he came to notice, when it came to Marinette, he struggled to form words–

            For a second, he wondered if awkwardness was contagious. If so, he was more than sure that he got his from his brother.

            Oddly enough, Felix also seemed at edge whenever Marinette was either physically present near him, or just happened to be mentioned in a conversation. It was like she held this special ability to turn the statuesque Agreste siblings into impossible messes.

            “I’m pretty sure I took that in high school, Manon… But I forgot all about it… I mean, if that guy de Broglie says it, I think you should just take his word for it…” he heard her say, and blushed, when he realized he wasn’t even paying attention to the book he was reading, and was actively trying to eavesdrop on Marinette and her friend’s conversation.

            “I don’t think I can… I just don’t get it… How did you manage to get by at the time?” the other one asked, and even if Adrien couldn’t exactly make out her face, he sensed a hint of exaggerated hopelessness in her voice.

            “I just memorized the formulas… and tried my best.”

            “Marinette… You graduated first of your class! That’s so unfair. I _hate_ quantum physics– I mean, we just learned, _last month_ , that something was either matter, or it was not. Now, how can it be both? It just doesn’t make any sense…”

            Adrien frowned, and forced himself to drop out of the conversation (in which he was obviously an unsolicited party) by letting an overflow of random thoughts distract him.

            The books here were considered national treasures and were all very old– The library was built in the early 17th hundreds, and contained today half of France’s national archives. When he came by, a couple hours earlier, Adrien was scouring the library’s shelves intensely with the set intention to find a specific book– He didn’t know what it was called, nor what it looked like, but he imagined it old and foreign enough that it would immediately catch his attention. He went through all the fiction and non-fiction sections, and was just beginning to rummage through the historical divisions of the library, when he saw Marinette, and completely forgot what he was doing here.

            “Aren’t you gonna say ‘hi’?” Plagg asked, flying out of Adrien’s shirt pocket in a nonchalance that made his owner squeak.

            “Plagg! Have you gone mad? _Hide_!” he yelped, as his toes ran cold and he was urgently trying to catch his kwami. He threw an alarmed look all around him to make sure no one was looking, as Plagg disappeared somewhere between the books. “Plagg? Plagg! Come back here!” he called out in a whisper, while trying to get ahold of his little demonic friend.

            “Will you _relax_?” Plagg shot back, as he pushed a book out of the shelf he was hiding in, to make more room for his aberrantly elastic minute body– Adrien caught it midair before it smashed to the ground and possibly shattered.

            “I will, the minute you get down here!” Adrien hissed, as he tucked the book randomly along the bookcase.

            “Okay, listen,” Plagg proposed, slowly coming out of hiding, and flying down towards his owner. “I’ll get back in your pocket, if you go talk to her.”

            “WH-what? Why?” Adrien coughed, suddenly panicked, his ears, already burning red, before he gradually came back to his senses and realized Plagg’s ulterior motives– He crossed his arms and gave his kwami a dirty stare. “What? So you can add it to your famous speech and make fun of me even more later on?”

            Plagg rolled his eyes and let out a very long, very exhausted sigh. “Boy,” he said calmly, “The girl is wearing black leather pants with a fluorescent paw print sewed into one of her back pockets…”

            Adrien tried to say something, but words got stuck in his stomach without him being able to throw them out properly. His whole face was red now, his skin, so hot it was already peeling off of his bones, and the sweat moustache that appeared abruptly on his upper-lip was just giving Plagg the perfect pretext to mock him. His mouth opened and closed like a fucking goldfish’s, and his eyes were wide, creeping at Marinette, who was sitting at a table, just on the other side of this bookcase.

            “She already likes you– Even if she doesn’t know it,” Plagg went on, and Adrien knew that it took him literally everything for him not to comment on his clattering teeth or his hasty urge to bite his nails bloody. “What’s the big deal? You already talk to pretty girls _all the damn time_! Just go over there, already!”

            “What if I say something s-stupid?”

            “Your name is stupid. Now, go!” Plagg almost shouted.

            “Okay… But what if I go full Felix and she brotherzone me, like she did him?!”

            “You mean… Like _Ladybug_ did to _you_?” Plagg groaned.

            “Not. Helping.”

            “They’re arguing about physic stuff– You have a degree in that shit. Go help them out!” Plagg ordered, before zooming into one of Adrien’s pockets and disappearing into it.

            Of course, Adrien didn’t move– The idiot had just forgotten how to walk. So Plagg had to pull him across his shirt to get him to come out in the open, where he couldn’t take to his heels without being spotted.

            “Uh– H-hey! Marinette…” he greeted, as he shyly made his way towards the table she was sitting at. “Um… Hey, Marinette’s friend?” he waved awkwardly, as Marinette’s face just lighted up altogether, and the smile she flashed him encouraged him to stand straighter and take another step forward.

            “Hey, Adrien,” she greeted back, her cheeks a little pinker than usual, before turning towards Manon to introduce her. “So… What’s up?” she asked, not yet quite sure if she should offer him to join them, or if he was just being polite, and will quickly be on his way.

            “I… Sorry, I actually couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and uh… I was standing right behind this bookcase, you see… Um– I… I have a degree in Atomic and Molecular Physics… I could uh– Help you out? Maybe?”

            “Really? That’d be awesome!” Marinette exclaimed, strumming the chair right next to her for him to take a seat– She didn’t need to pray.

            “May I take a look?” he asked Manon, while struggling to let go of Marinette’s oh-so-blue eyes– They were smiling brightly, full of light and kindness, and righteousness, like two slices of heaven burning up the sky, and they reminded him of his mother’s. The latters were green, of course, like his, but their blaze held the same intensity as those of Marinette. “Oh, it’s the wave-particle duality theory… What grade are you in, you said?”

            “I’m in ninth grade,” Manon replied, and her ex-babysitter could tell the young girl was a little jealous of the all the attention Marinette was receiving from the young man, instead of him focusing on _her_ problem– So, she sank into her seat, and tried to make herself scarce.

            “Oh, then, I’m a little surprised they are already teaching you that. But then again, it _is_ the foundation of the whole concept of quantum physics…”

            “Oh, no, that’s not on the syllabus–“ Manon assured him. “Ms. Mendeleiev is making us work on this uh… project. I just happened to choose the harder subject, I guess. Ugh! I just don’t understand why they teach us something, just to be like ‘Actually, scratch that, everything you know is wrong’ a couple weeks later…”

            Adrien couldn’t bite down a laugh, as Manon’s lips sketched a shy smile. “Well, you are learning physics the same way it was discovered by all those scientists, a century ago…” Adrien retorted. “The wave-particle duality theory is however the biggest, and hardest, concept in physics, and I’m not sure that, at this point, you really need to understand it…”

            “I just need to trace up how it came to existence– I know it has to do with something called the blackbody radiation and another thing called the photoelectric effect? I think?”

            “Yeah…,” Adrien said, after a little while. “But I still don’t think you should be using such great terms to explain it… I mean… That’s almost university-level, you know.”

            “Really? But then… what–“

            “What you need to know is that uh… Light was always um… more or less… believed to solely act as electromagnetic waves– It basically explained a lot of its properties like… uh… diffraction, refraction and… um, birefringence… do you want it means?” Manon nodded. “Great. A scientist named Thomas Young was even able to prove it with his double-sit experiment…”

            “I know that,” Manon suddenly cut him off. “He used it to reject all early theories of light being constituted of particles…”

            “Correct. Then, enter the blackbody radiation theory and the photoelectric effect. Do you know what they stand for?”

            “I mean… I know the blackbody radiation theory has something to do with stars… and the other thing with metal but I–“

            “Well, those are actually really good examples used to explain the two schemes but uh… The blackbody radiation theory stipulates that uh… You know anything about radiation absorption?”

            “Does it have anything to do with the additive and subtractive synthesis of colors?” Manon asked, while quickly going through her notes.

            “Yes! Perfect! That’s exactly it,” Adrien exclaimed, and his sudden excitement amused Marinette. "So, basically, what the theory says is that, um… imagine a theoretical _entirely_ black body… well, it will absorb all radiations that come its way, right? And what happens when a body absorbs a _huge_ amount of radiations?”

            “It will heat up!” Manon cried out, before being shushed by the people around her. “Sorry…” she sighed, and Marinette reached out to pat her shoulder in a reassuring way.

            “That’s right!” Adrien encouraged her. “But in physics, we don’t say ‘it heated up’, we rather use the terms ‘it gained energy’. When an object gains a sufficient amount of energy, it eventually begins to _radiate_ , like a star, and sometimes, it can emit electrons…”

            “I know! That’s how electricity works! …right?” Manon wondered.

            “Yes, uh… partly,” Adrien chuckled. Throughout his whole explanation, Adrien tried to avoid Marinette’s gaze at all costs, and rather focused his attention on Manon’s book, or her face, or even the table– Its wood was solid, polished and varnished, and its color made him wonder if it was cherry wood. “However, at that time, the wave theory that was installed specified that the absorption of light radiation was solely due to their intensity and not their frequency.”

            “But… But that doesn’t make any sense!” Manon told him confidently. “The experiments…”

            “Exactly!” Adrien encouraged her, when she just stopped herself from talking, fearing that what she was saying was completely ridiculous. “That later led dear Einstein to come up with the concept that light energy was not continuous, but rather quantized, or _packaged_ , into small, weightless particles called _photons_ , each possessing a very definite quota of energy.”

            “Oh…”

            “After that, the next obvious question was, if light could possess matter properties, could matter possess wave properties, as well?” Adrien asked her, and Manon’s eyes simply lit up with curiosity. “The answer was yes, but was only proven two decades later…”

            “ _Twenty_ years?”

            “It… was a really difficult question to answer. But you’ll learn all about it in a few years…,” Adrien added. “I think…”

            “But I want to know all about matter’s wave properties _now_!”

            Manon was shushed again for her impertinence, and Marinette shot her an angry look. Adrien tried to smile, but it came off weird, and he dropped his gaze to the book. “Well, it has something to do with atom’s energy diagrams, and the amount of energy each one needs to get into an excited state…. Yeah… You don’t– D-don’t get into it now–”

            Adrien’s was cut off by Manon’s loud phone ringtone, and the latter was now despised by the whole library. “It’s my mom,” she said. “She’s waiting for me outside,” she informed Marinette before gathering up her stuff, and getting to her feet. “Thanks again, Marinette, and you too, Adrien. You really could be a great teacher– I got it all better now in barely twenty minutes, than when I studied alone for four hours straight…”

            Adrien blushed, nodded, and then, Manon was gone, and he came to the realization that he was still sitting next to Marinette, _right next to her_ , that their arms were almost brushing, and she was staring at him like she was expecting him to say something…! B-but… He didn’t have _anything_ to talk about, and he was so afraid to prattle, and stutter, and her finding him ludicrous…  and…

            “So… uh… N-nice pants… Are you like… a Cat Noir fan by any chance?” And then, _this_ happened.

            He wanted to die.

            He was, at this moment, totally, and absolutely ready to die.

            A serial killer could just appear in the middle of the library and murder him in plain daylight, and it wouldn’t even bother him… Though… he kinda hoped for a more… natural death? Like a heart attack. Yes, a heart attack would be nice, right now, he thought to himself. But… a heart attack could take up to several minutes to kill him… whereas the serial killer would just shoot him in the middle of the head and be done with it. It was messier, sure, but seemed more effective.

            He looked around him, his heartbeat rising by the second. Just, where was this killer, exactly? Was he going to make him wait, as well?

            “Yeah…” And, against all odds, Marinette was giggling. For a minute there, he let himself feel a little pride for making her laugh, and shot her a very wide smile, to hide his very red cheeks. “I thought it was obvious, you know, with all the black, and the leather?” she added. “The emerald earrings…”

            “I’m pretty sure Cat Noir doesn’t wear earrings…” he remarked, and she laughed even more.

            “Yeah, I know that. I wear the emerald to reflect the color of his eyes,” she explained, reaching a hand up to touch her earrings– She didn’t really wear lots of jewels, he noticed. Just the four gems that shone on her earlobes, and a hint of a necklace that she hid under her shirt. He was about to ask her about it, when she said, “Don’t you dare make fun of my dorky side. Everyone has his share of dirty little secrets,” she joked.

            “’Secrets’?” he echoed, lifting both his eyebrows. “You’re not really getting out of your way to hide it, you know,” he noted, with a side smirk. “You see, normal people buy the Ladybug figurines of the premium package edition, and hide it in their room.”

            “Oh My _God_. You own Ladybug _dolls_?” she teased him.

            “They’re _figurines_ , not dolls. I’m not a child,” he corrected her, tittering. “Besides, it’s not like I’m fanboying in the open, unlike someone.”

            Marinette rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she snorted. “It’s not like Cat Noir is ever gonna see me dressed like this– And even if he does, there are, at least, a _thousand_ other fans that do the same thing… Why would I be any different in his eyes?”

            “I think he’d be at least a little flattered that someone as pretty as you was such a huge fan of his,” he replied, without thinking, and it took him several seconds to apprehend what he had just done. He tried to brush it off innocently, but his blushing was too visible, and his awkwardness was filling up the air– Things were going so _well_ , and he just _had_ to blow it. Stupid, Adrien. _Idiot_.

            “Thanks, that’s uh… sweet of you, Adrien,” she said, a narrow smile on her lips. Oh my God. He had totally made her uncomfortable– He had handled the situation with such _carelessness_ , he– Fuck. He just went full Felix. He _just_ went _full Felix_. “But I never said that I was a ‘huge’ fan, you know,” she reminded him, snickering, a sly look on her face.

            Adrien scoffed, and thanked God Marinette was better than him at keeping a conversation going. “Dude, there’s a giant green paw print on your ass.” He stared at her with creases eyelids and a pouting face, and Marinette just couldn’t help a giant guffaw– Adrien really thought she was going to die of laughter… or murdered by the librarian.

            “I think we better get out of here,” Marinette remarked, descrying dozens of angry stares that people shot her.

            The gardens that surrounded the library were nice, and quiet. When the sun was out, people would come out there. They would spread out blankets and tablecloths across the ground, or just lie down in the grass, and read, as they listened to crickets chirping. But Paris Novembers were known to be chilly, and windy, and no one in their right mind would voluntarily stand outside purposeless, waiting to freeze to death.

            “Okay, fine, so I may be a ‘huge’ fan,” Marinette scoffed, her eyes, full of mischief. “Can you really blame me, though?” she then asked seriously.

            “What do you mean?”

            “The guy is like the living _embodiment_ of awesomeness– And I don’t say that about a lot of people…” she answered sincerely. “He’s fearsome, and tremendous, and so… _kind_ … It’s almost intimidating.” Adrien blushed, and tried to keep his new found jumpiness from being too apparent. Marinette wasn’t talking about him, damn it. She was talking about Cat Noir. Not. Him. “He uh… He saved me, once– But that was like, _ages_ ago.” That was a lie, she then thought to herself. Cat Noir had saved her not just once, but rather a countless number of times. He was brave, and loyal, and an amazing friend, an inspiration… He was the one that convinced her that she was indeed cut out for the job, he was the one that kept her going… and she was completely head over heels in love with him. And he had no idea.

            So _that_ ’s why she seemed so familiar, Adrien realized.

            “He probably won’t even remember me now,” she went on, as a shadow of sadness groomed her face.

            Adrien gulped. He suddenly wanted to take her in his arms, and hug her so tightly, it would leave no room for ache, and tears… but he didn’t know her, and doing that wouldn’t be uh… _appropriate_. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said instead.

            “You’re cute,” she said, dropping her gaze to the ground.

            He was about to say something funny to lighten the mood, a dorky joke about two chemists he had just thought of, but the akuma alarm went off unpredictably, and its dreadful melody drowned the city’s streets.

            “I have to go!” they both said at the same time, before going their separate ways, too preoccupied by the deafening bells to apprehend the oddness of the situation.

 

***

 

When Hawk Moth still remained undefeated after a year, the city’s fire department had to come up with an evacuation plan to deal with akuma attacks: when an akuma surfaced, the emergency bell, located at the top of City Hall, echoed loudly, and the streets were all emptied in under ten minutes. All buildings were then under complete lock down, and Paris was left to the care of its two superheroes.

            The minute another one of Hawk Moth’s victims were unleashed in the open, and until Ladybug gave her okay, no one was allowed outside. It was protocol, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry, had to comply to it. Of course, there were always some exceptions– Passionate reporters, desperate to put their hands on unique, unprecedented images, or even heedless tourists, who visited the capital in hoping to stumble upon one of its greatest attraction– Two superheroes in action.

            “I locked Césaire inside one of the trailers,” Cat Noir informed Ladybug, as the latter landed right beside him, on the rooftop of the Comédie-Française.

            Ladybug nodded– One day, her best friend’s complete recklessness was going to be the death of her. Alya was so _obsessed_ with getting her superhero persona on tape that she dodged, and ignored, every warning anyone directed at her. So, she and Cat Noir got used to always lock her up somewhere, before all the action started. “Nothing to report East, North, and West,” she said. “Were you able to locate the akuma yet?”

            Without glancing at her, Cat Noir gestured to the Harajuku girl that was skipping down the route. “Right before you, M’Lady. Calls herself ‘Whisper’ and carries a bow and arrows as a weapon,” he explained briefly. “She is said to invade your head and search your brain for your direst desires and  then uses them against you.”

            Ladybug’s posture stiffened. “D-desires? What kind of desires?”

            In a six years interval, Ladybug and Cat Noir had to fight off all kind of akumas. Some were weak, and didn’t cause big trouble, others were strong, and smart, and almost trying to defeat. There were akumas who exerted mind control abilities, and others who called upon natural disasters. Most of the time, they sought armies, and every one of them, even the love akumas, yearned after chaos and destruction. They implanted those sentiments in their victims and made them their puppets but–

            But Ladybug has never heard of any akuma that turned their victims’ own feelings against themselves, before.

            “The ones you try the hardest to smother and repress, I guess,” Cat Noir replied with a shrug.

            Ladybug let out a long sigh, and wrapped her arms around herself as a semblance of protection. “And… aren’t you uh– _Scared_? About… facing them?” she asked honestly, and she couldn’t help the shaking of her voice.

            He shrugged. “I stopped fighting my inner demons. We’re on the same side now,” he joked, but when Ladybug didn’t even bother to smile, he slowly reached to stroke the back of her hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you, Bug-a-boo,” Cat Noir assured her softly. “I swear,” he promised, and he smiled, and Ladybug was certain being this kind, and considerate… and _handsome_ , was straight-up illegal.

            Ladybug let herself relax, her eyes closing slightly, as Cat Noir’s thumb was tracing appeasing circles on her gloved hand. Her mind wandered, and she imagined what it would feel like to have their fingers entangled. Her face went pink, and she quickly let go of him, shaking off the hotness that suddenly inflated her skin. “Yeah?” she snorted. “And who’s gonna protect _you_ , huh?” she asked, as she cheekily poked the tip of his nose.

            Cat Noir was about to say something back, when he was interrupted by the akuma’s cry. “What is your desire? It will render you weak– For your heart will not stop until it gets what it seeks!” Down on the streets, the akuma shook her rainbow hair out of her face, as she aimed at the two superheroes. “Embracing our desires reduces us to freaks– I say our desires are what make us unique!”

            “So uh… what’s the plan?” Cat Noir asked urgently, as Whisper let go of her bowstring and an arrow came flying in his direction– He dodged it easily, to the akuma’s deepest disarray.

            “We try to get her as far away from the city’s center as possible,” Ladybug replied, yanking her yo-yo off her waist. “We will see if our intuitions were correct.”

            “Got ya.”

 

Before Paris’ fire department was able to establish her whereabouts, Whisper was able to stroke a few citizens with her deadly arrows, and Ladybug had to fight them off, then tie them down, to keep them out of the way, and of trouble.

            As she landed on a random rooftop in the seventh district, she recognized the sign of her parents’ bakery, and seriously thought about turning around. But, as she noticed, the further away she got from the capital’s center, the feebler Whisper’s aim became. She let out a long sigh– She just had to trust herself enough to stay as far away from the bakery as possible, and keep her parents safe.

            Cat Noir joined her a couple minutes later, hanging on to his stick the same way she was hanging on to her yo-yo.

            “To where will we be running like this, M’Lady?” he asked, a little out of breath.

            “Well… I was thinking– The fifteenth district is just a couple rooftops away, isn’t?” Ladybug suggested, already readying her yo-yo to hop off to another roof.

            She was just about jump, when Cat Noir grabbed her arm, pulling her back in a very careful manner. “But is she really going to follow us there?”

            Ladybug turned to face him, as he slowly let go of her. “Only one way to find out, right?” she bearded, and she was wearing one of her deadliest smirks.

            “What if, instead of chasing us, she tried to attack other people?” he countered, and worry wasn’t a good look on him. “Hawk Moth is not stupid, you know. If his akuma gets too far away for him to be able to control it, he’s just going to pull it back. And he will not hesitate to use extreme measures to lure us to him. We can’t be reckless.”

            Ladybug sighed, then nodded. Sometimes, she would find herself so caught up in a fight, that she would forget that innocent civilians were involved as well. Hopefully, Cat Noir was always there to remind her of it, and point out the wholes her plans sometimes carried. “You’re right,” she admitted, pink-cheeked. “SH-Should we get back, then?”

            Cat Noir answered in a soft voice, “I think it’s best.”

            “What is your desire? It will render you weak! For your heart will not stop until it gets what is seeks!” Whisper shouted. She was standing right below them, in the middle of the Tour Maubourg Boulevard. “Embracing our desires reduces us to freaks– Oh, my dear Ladybug, unleash your inner geek!”

            Whisper fired an arrow at the spotted superheroine, but the latter sliced it in half with a skillful spurt of her yo-yo. The villain’s quiver thus emptied, Ladybug noticed with a grin, but her quiet satisfaction quickly wore off when it filled up again with brand new arrows.

            “Her quiver!” she exclaimed to her partner’s attention. “It fills up with new arrows as soon as she’s out of them!”

            “I think I can get close enough to destroy it,” Cat Noir noted. “But I don’t think that’s where her akuma is…”

            “Maybe not,” Ladybug replied, cutting in half another arrow that was flying towards her. “But, this way at least, she’ll be out of ammunition…”

            Cat Noir nodded, raised a hand to the sky, and called upon his cataclysm. “Cover me,” he instructed her, before disappearing somewhere between the buildings.

            “On it!” she whispered to herself, as she ran across the rooftop and jumped into the void, trusting nothing else but the magic of her costume.

            “Oh, Ladybug! Have you come out to play?” Whisper bellowed, as her rival tugged on her yo-yo, tumbling between balconies, making her the most annoying target ever. “Your nerve is quite literally the highlight of my day!”

            “Oh, shut it, already!” Ladybug shot back. “Want my Miraculouses? Come and get them!”

            Whisper let out a vicious crackle that echoed between the buildings. “And yet, I have got a better idea! Let’s see what urges will drive you to mania!” she offered, while stretching her bowstring and readying yet another one of her toxic arrows.

            “I keep all my cravings in check, thank you very much!” Ladybug replied boldly.

            Whisper laughed again, and it was a horrible laugh that made Ladybug’s ears throw up. “Oh, but are you forgetting, that your mind to me is like a book? I see right through your brain, and oh, what a scoop! Your longing is a fire, it sets your skin ablaze– You feel that itch each time you meet his god-like gaze…”

            “Cat Noir! Now!” Ladybug cried out, cutting Whisper off, before she could spill out on the ground all of her darkest secrets.

            Cat Noir jumped out of the shadows and touched the akuma’s quiver– It instantly crumbled into a pile of ashes, to both superheroes’ content.

            “Argh! No! You _fool_!” Whisper barked. “You think you can stop me? But soon, you’ll hand me your jewel!” she threatened, before turning around to face her opponent, and ramming her last remaining arrow into his stomach. It broke the second it reached his abdomen, shattering to pieces– Whisper’s powers didn’t exactly aim for physical harm.

            “CAT NOIR! NO!” Ladybug yelled, but it was too late– Cat Noir was already on his knees, powerless under the monster’s awful spell.

            “Humans are an evil breed– Their promises are but rubbish and scrawl! If they can’t override their greed– Let their desires bring their fall!” the akuma sneered. She crouched down to Cat Noir’s level, and place a gloved hand on his cheek. “What is your desire?” she asked softly, and Ladybug was going to be sick. “It will render you weak– For your heart will not stop until it gets what it seeks,” she continued to explain, gently stroking his blond curls out of his face. “You thrive now for that kiss, you so long waited to bespeak– And that your partner will provide, with a feverish technique…”

            As Whisper pronounced her last word, she placed her index finger under Cat Noir’s chin and forced him to lift up his head. His devoured gaze immediately found that of Ladybug, and the latter couldn’t hold down a retch. “C-Cat Noir?” she tried, but he didn’t seem to notice her.

            “The heart has its reasons that reason ignores,” Whisper chanted sardonically. “This one, however, speaks only in sin,” she added, pointing towards Cat Noir’s heart, beating weakly behind his black leather armor. “This kitty will fight wars he’ll never win– For his only desire, is to call himself yours.”

            Ladybug almost fainted. Whisper’s words stroked her like lightning, and the smell of her burning flesh was nauseating. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears that she refused to cry in front of Hawk Moth’s new puppet. She couldn’t be weak, now that Cat Noir had fallen. She needed to be twice as strong, twice as tenacious, if she only ever dreamed of defeating Whisper.

            “Love is a liar, love can be a cheat– Love is but destruction, when faced with defeat,” Whisper deviously went on. She was on her feet now, slowly twirling around him like a vulture waiting for his prey to squander and die. “Save your luckless knight, from a soul-bound spell– Kiss his swollen lips, and free him from his Hell.”

            Ladybug wanted to say something, but the sight of her defeated partner had smothered her voice. She wanted to shout, but could only whimper. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide, but the red of her suit was too noticeable.

            She wanted to kiss him, too– God knew how much she wanted to kiss him.

            But she didn’t trust herself to stop, even after the spell will have been lifted– She would kiss his lips dry, and suck out his whole being, before she could stop herself. And then, Whisper– Hawk Moth– would have won.

            “Meanwhile, don’t mind me, I’ll just take back what’s mine– The ring of the black cat that everyone seems to shrine…”

            At those words, something that resembled rage and fearlessness crossed Ladybug’s face, sending a cold shiver down Whisper’s spine. “I would love to see you try!” the superheroine howled, before throwing her yo-yo in her partner’s direction.

            She netted him easily, then tugged on her magic wire, and Cat Noir flew right into her arms, as she began to run away from the akuma– She had established by now, that Whisper wasn’t able to follow her on Paris’ rooftops.

            The latter let out an awful scream, as her rival jumped away, leaving her with neither weapon, nor hostage. Furiously, she reached to the golden pendant she wore around her neck, and yelled, “My heart shall possess whatever my heart wants– And today, I spoil him with a way to kill your chance!”

            “Her necklace! That’s where the akuma is!” Ladybug suddenly realized, as a giant pair of white feathered wings poked out of Whisper’s back. She tightened her grip around Cat Noir, and ran, tearing hurry, towards the only building where she knew he would be perfectly safe.

 

***

 

As she cleverly slipped through Whisper’s fingers, Ladybug didn’t bother circling the building and entering her parents’ house the normal way– She just landed on her old balcony, and prayed that her mom still forgot, to this day, to lock the trapdoor that led to her childhood bedroom.

            “Yes!” she cheered, as she carefully slid down to the tiny bed that her parents always had ready for her during the Holidays, Cat Noir, still in her arms. “Hey, kitty,” she said softly, laying him down on the hot pink covers. “A-are you okay?” she asked, and regretted it immediately, when she had to confront his face, scarred by envy and sorrow, and riddled with pain, and languish, and millions of little drops of sweat.

            “L-Ladybug… I-it _hurts_ ,” he shocked out. “It hurts, so _goddamn_ much…”

            “I’ll fight off the akuma, and everything will be back to normal,” she assured him, palming his face between two very shaky hands. “I promise.”

            “I– _Please_. Please, make it stop. I can’t… God– It hurts so much…” he groaned. “I– I can’t move…”

            “I’m so sorry, Cat Noir…”

            “L-Ladybug,” he interrupted, cutting short her useless apology. “Y-you need… You _have_ to kiss me. I won’t be able to fight, otherwise.”

            He kept his eyes closed, not because he didn’t want to know where he was, but because he was sure it would hurt too much to hold them open. Something was screaming inside his head, slamming against the walls of his skull, slowly undoing every bit of his nerves. His body ached everywhere, but his chest was the worst.

            Ten seconds passed, and then twenty and thirty, and finally he opened his mouth and tried to breathe. A harsh half-stifled yell escaped his lips, and pain felt like a sharp-toothed animal eating him from the inside.

            He didn’t realized that Ladybug was gone, until she came back, pressing a wet cloth on his forehead, and whispering in his ears sweet words of encouragement. He didn’t bother to ask her where she had gotten it.

            “I can fight Whisper on my own,” she said. “I know where the akuma is.”

            She was so close, and yet so out of reach. He felt her hand in his hair, like razorblades against his scalp, and her breath on his lips, like the burning flames of Hell, eating his skin alive. Pain was just an illusory sensation that his mind could shut down, if it needed too, he thought to himself. So, how come was he still suffering?

            “Stay put. I’ll be back for you. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

            He absorbed the trauma, swallowing the pain, and kicked the words out of his mouth. “Ladybug, _please_ …” he begged, and his eyes were still closed, and his agony was deafening him– He had no way of knowing what exactly was happening, no way of knowing that his partner’s heart almost broke completely.

            “I’m sorry. Please, stay here,” she breathed, before getting back to her feet, and disappearing into the haze that had slowly begun to cloud Cat Noir’s mind.

            She hurried back to the city’s center, where Whisper was patiently waiting for her, flapping her sinister wings right above the pyramid of the Louvre. “Lucky charm!” Ladybug cried to the sky, and the latter gifted her with a black red polka dot magnifying glass. “Great,” she mumbled under her breath, before hiding behind a chimney. “What am I going to do with that?” she asked herself, while searching her surroundings for non-existent clues.

            “What is your desire? It will render you weak!” Whisper called out. “For your heart will not stop until it gets what it seeks! Ladybug, darling, plan your grand exit– For I will have you know, the sun is my limit!”

            As the akuma carefully twirled above every rooftop, in search of her prey, Ladybug melted into the twilight shadows, gliding, undetected, and almost effortlessly, across Paris’ blue-gray tiles. “’The sun is my limit?’ Why does it sound familiar?” she wondered, before she almost slipped down on one of Whisper’s feathers. “Is that… _wax_?”

            It took her several minutes to connect the dots.

            “Of course! _Icarus_! ‘The heat of the sun destroyed his darling wings– As he becomes the symbol of the wrath that yearning brings!’” she trotted out with an uncontrollable enthusiasm.

            Ladybug looked down to the magnifying glass in her hand, a shrewd smirk curling up the side of her mouth, as it began to sparkle simultaneously with the setting sun. “Perfect…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and Greek mythology...


	5. About a girl

 

_The heart has its reasons that reason ignores,_

_This one, however, speaks only in sin._

_This kitty will fight wars he’ll never win,_

_For his only desire, is to call himself yours._

 

The akuma’s rhymes still swirled around them, heavying the air, and making it even harder to breathe, deafening them by shutting out every sound that escaped the city’s nightlife. The wind blew hot in their direction, poked their exposed skin like a thousand needles digging into their flesh, and slowly undoing Ladybug’s braids. They stood still, staring at each other’s faces, a hundred miles between them. She could barely distinguish his sad features in the moonlight, but his apple-green eyes were glowing, bright, and gorgeous, in the shadows. Before he could think of any good apology, as she knew that would be Cat Noir’s first instinct, Ladybug decided to speak first.

            “I didn’t kiss you because uh… I didn’t want to relive the whole Dark Cupid situation again,” she admitted, taking a careful, an oh-so-very careful step towards her partner. “The first time we ever kissed was because of a stupid spell, and we never spoke of it again. I guess… I just didn’t want to waste my second chance on yet another one.”

            Cat Noir blinked, then froze. He wasn’t expecting that– He was expecting anything but that. “Wha- W-What?” he asked in a whisper, still stunned with disbelief. Her heart broke a little, but she stepped forward again, closing the ravine that separated them. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. Was it all just a cruel joke to her? Was she mocking him? He couldn’t tell. “What are you saying?”

            “Cat Noir,” she breathed, and his name on her lips had a ravishing melody to it. “I know how I’ve acted towards you for the past few years,” she said a little louder, “how I’ve always brushed off your advances, and ignored your flirting but I… I only did so to protect myself. I never knew how serious you were and uh…” She paused, let out a long, shattered sigh, and her eyes were suddenly filled with tears. “I know now that you really meant it, and I– I want you to know that I love you, too. I _love_ you, Cat Noir, w-with all my heart… and if _anything_ were to happen to you, I– I would be _devastated_.”

            Cat Noir’s heart was hammering so furiously in his chest, he had no choice but to throw it out of his body, drawing a blood-spattered cavity right in the middle of his torso.

            It was on the ground now, beating still, and he fought the urge to grab it and hand it over to Ladybug, for it was always hers to take. Instead, he took a step forward, raised both his hands to her face, cupped her cheeks in between his palms, and all he could think of was how beautiful she was, so adorable, and stunning, and kissable… God, he just wanted to kiss her now, drown himself in her, in her eyes, her mouth, her breath, so hot and alive, it could _melt_ him.

            Her next words nearly killed him. “I can’t be what you want me to be.”

            “What do you mean?” he asked, as his head jerked up immediately.

            She took a deep breath to steady herself, but he could see that her knees were still trembling. Her eyes dropped to the ground as her gloved hands slowly closed around his wrists, to break off his grip. She could’ve just shoved a long, sharpened knife through his throat, he thought. It would’ve had the exact same effect.

            “You fell in love with Ladybug, Cat Noir,” she said quietly, her cheeks almost as red as her costume. “You fell in love with her courage, her fierceness, her boldness, but it was all a lie. The girl behind this mask is fragile, and small, and clumsy. She can’t do anything right, and messes up everything. She constantly doubts herself,” she told him, and the tears, now, were flowing, and she couldn’t do anything about it. “If you knew her,” she went on weakly, “you’d ask yourself how you even laid eyes on her.”

            “What are you talking about?” he pleaded, and all he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and squeeze her so hard, her sobs would just disappear– But she was still holding on to his wrists.

            The safety bell chimed maybe half an hour ago and, beneath them, the city was slowly coming back to life.

            “Ladybug and I… We’re so different. I’m nothing like her. Ladybug is hoax.” She paused, brought her eyes back to face him, and they were suddenly full of sorrow, and madness, and anger. “You fell in love with the wrong person.”

            Cat Noir couldn’t stand any of it.

            He couldn’t stand watching her talk so awfully about herself, someone he was so deeply in love with, everything else felt wrong. The woman he was completely and utterly devoted to. The one thing that made him get up in the morning. The girl he dreamt of so many times. The girl who held his heart, his body, and his life in her shaky, clumsy hands.

            The girl who could break him with a single word, a breath, a kiss.

            He leaned down, but she turned her face away, and all his lips met were the wet skin of her cheek. He had to persuade himself that it was enough, that her cheeks were enough, her hands were enough, her words… But, in reality, he craved her, he yearned for her touch, and he could never be too close to her. So he took another step forward, and their stomachs were almost touching now, and he was half-expecting her to pull away.

            She didn’t.

            He broke free from her grasp and clasped his palms around her forearms. He kissed her again, as his hands stroke gently up her arms, slowly making their way to her shoulders, her neck, and her jaw that he softly spun aside, so she could meet his eyes.

            “I love you,” he said, now more determined than ever to convince her that he meant it. “Without your suit, you only cease to be the Ladybug Miraculous holder, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not Ladybug. You created her, she is a part of you. With, or without the mask, you _are_ Ladybug. I didn’t fall in love with your earrings.”

            He swallowed hard, and held her gaze, drank the light that brightened her dazzling bluebell eyes. He let his forehead rest on hers, as he breathed in deeply. He still wanted to kiss her. And maybe, just maybe, this time, she would’ve had let him, but her earrings let out an urgent beep that snapped them both out of their reverie– Unlike her, he wasn’t to change back any time soon, for he already recharged Plagg’s batteries when Ladybug was off to fight Whisper. “Stay,” he begged, clinching a hasty hand around her waist, as she was about to run away, and God knew when he was to see her again. “I’ll prove you wrong. I’ll prove you that I’m really in love with you.”

            Something shone in Ladybug’s eyes, and, for a split of a second, she was really considering his offer. It sent a shiver of hope all through his body, and he held her even tighter against him.

            At this point, she was ready to give herself entirely to him.

            She wanted him to break her, wreck her, use her, she wanted him to take her to a place she’s never been, to show her something she’s never seen, to tell her things she’s never heard before, because she was so in love with him, and he had no idea.

            “We can’t,” she finally sighed apologetically, her righteousness, always prevailing on every shred of temptation that crept its way into her head. “No one must know who we are. Not even us,” she reminded him, lifting a hand to brush off the blond locks that covered his eyes. “This secret is maybe the only thing that keeps us safe from Hawk Moth.”

            “You can trust me,” he promised, his claws slowly digging into her gear without him realizing it, and it felt so good, she thought to herself, so good, and selfish, to have him fight for her, even if it was a battle he could never win.

            “I already trust you, Cat Noir,” she whispered, “I trust you with my life. Blindly, and forever.”

            She had no idea what her voice did to him, so she went on, breaking him, bit by bit, undoing him so easily, and he was shaking now, begging the sky that he was indeed wide awake, that he wasn’t dreaming. That he couldn’t possibly be dreaming, because everything felt so real, and he loved her so much, and if he woke up now, it would be to a disastrous nightmare that would eat him alive.

            “But it’s not about trust,” she said shyly. “If it was, I would’ve shown you my face _ages_ ago.” She paused again, as he took in her words, then leaned towards him, pressing a gentle, innocent kiss to his temple. “I’m yours,” she swore. “Always was, always will be.”

            “I’m yours,” he echoed desperately, still holding on to her, because he just couldn’t bring himself to let go.

            She let out a soft chuckle, before reaching for the red ribbon in her hair.

            Cat Noir watched her curiously, as she handed it to him, with a small, discrete smile that was enough to set him on fire.

            He grasped it unconsciously, a flurried look on his face, and held it idly in his clawed hand, before she finally took pity on him–

            She grabbed the ribbon back and tied it around the bell that was attached to his collar. “You fell for Ladybug. Let’s see if you’ll fall for my other half,” was the last thing she said to him that night, before she jumped off the top of the Eiffel Tower.

 

***

 

“Two Kamikaze, please,” Adrien ordered to the barman, as he went over the shots menu of the _Nargiz_. “Actually, make it three. And after that, I would like a Johnnie on the rocks.”

            “Easy now, man,” the barman scoffed. “It’s only six in the afternoon, you know. At this rhythm, you’ll be out of it before the sun even goes down.”

            Adrien didn’t bother to reply and shot him a jaded look instead.

            “Hey, everything okay, dude?” the barman wanted to know.

            Adrien breathed in, then let out a long, painful sigh. “Let’s just say that I’m having a bad day.”

            The barman threw his hands up in plea, before pouring Lime Juice, Triple Sec, and aqua vitae into one of his shakers. He presented Adrien with three shot glasses that he each filled afloat with the exquisite and deadly Vodka-based cocktail. “Well, you probably already know this, but alcohol never solved any problem,” the barman was bold enough to say, after Adrien bottomed-up his first shot. “You know, they don’t call them Kamikaze for nothing…”

            “I’m well aware,” Adrien replied, emptying yet another glass. “Vodka may not be an answer, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

            The barman snored. “Nice one,” he complimented.

            “And I didn’t even need to think about it.”

            “Listen, it’s your call man,” the barman started, “just, give me your car keys.”

            “I don’t drive. ‘Got a chauffeur.”

            “Fancy.”

            “Yup,” Adrien nodded, before finally draining dry his last Kamikaze shot. “He also doubles as my bodyguard,” he added with a wince.

            “A bodyguard, huh?” the barman asked, as he gathered up the three empty glasses that trailed on his counter. He quickly disposed them in the sink, and picked up a clean one, on the shelf behind him, that he filled with two ice cubes and a 69 Johnnie Walker Red Label, before presenting it to his client. “So, what? Are you like a super important figure or something?”

            “My father is.”

            “Then, what are you doing in a little tavern like this one, instead of getting wasted in an uh… more sophisticated hotel bar?” the barman inquired, genuinely curious about Adrien’s answer.

            “I’m not in the mood of running into people I’m supposed to like.”

            “Oh, wow. ‘Must be something serious, that thing’s that’s bothering you. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

            “Sorry,” Adrien sneered. “But I don’t even know you.”

            The barman shrugged. “Sometimes, it helps to talk to a stranger,” he told his client, but the latter simply rolled his eyes at him and took a sip of his drink. “The name’s Nino,” he then introduced himself, holding out a hand to the blond man.

            Adrien didn’t hide his hesitance to shake it, but, at the end, brought himself to do it. “Delighted,” he let out in a sardonic tone. “Adrien.” A minute passed, and Nino was still peering at Adrien, full of expectancies. “Fine,” the latter sighed. “Long story short, the love of my life kinda rejected me, last night. Ripped my heart right out of my chest, and tore it to pieces just in front of me.”

            “Ouch. Love drama. That sucks.”

            “'Worst part is,” Adrien added, quietly sipping on his Scotch, “she is, or rather was, my best friend.”

            “Oh.”

            “Yup. So alcohol is kinda all I have, right now.”

            “Did you try to call her or something?” Nino wondered.

            “Sure thing. Won’t pick up.”

            “Classic,” Nino remarked.

            Adrien scoffed, then nodded. “We’re supposed to meet sometime next week. I’ll try to talk to her, then. In person.”

            “You do that,” Nino encouraged. “If she’s your best friend, I’m sure she’ll get it,” he assured him. “How long have you guys known each other, anyway?”

            “I don’t know… Six years, I guess?”

            “Harsh.”

            “Oh my God, no way! Is that _Adrien Agreste_ sitting at the bar _I_ just walked in?” said a voice, Adrien was almost sure was belonging to a woman, and he let out an exhausted sigh, suddenly reviled by the notoriety that came along with his father’s name and his Greek God-like features.

            Nino snorted, as Adrien turned in his chair, scowling, more than ready to selfie his way out of the situation, when he was staggered by the sight of Marinette. “M-Marinette?” he stuttered out, and his skin was so red it was almost comical.

            “Hey, Adrien,” Marinette teased with a wink and a wide smile. “Fancy seeing you two days in a row. You’re not following me, are you?”

            “I– W-What? F-following you? M-me– Am not!” Adrien jabbered, and he blamed his incapacity to direct straight orders to his tongue on the alcohol. “I mean– No, I’m _not_ following you. I swear.”

            After his ridiculous attempt at _talking_ , Marinette’s giggle was for the most unsettling. “See? _Almost_ as entertaining as making fun of Felix…” she remarked, before taking a seat next to him.

            “Well, hello to you too, Ninette,” Nino scornfully greeted her, and a sly smile gleamed on her face in response. “Where’s Satan?” he asked, as he carefully peeked around the room.

            Adrien couldn’t really help it and shifted in his seat to take a look at the people behind him, and see if he could find anyone that matched the description– He had met many Lucifers and Morningstars before, but never had he heard of someone called ‘Satan.’ He was just about to ask Marinette about it, out of candid curiosity, when she uttered a loud groan, interrupting the flow of his thoughts.

            “Oh, my _God_ , Nino! I can’t anymore!” she grunted, as she tugged on her braids. “She just stopped a girl wearing a Ladybug t-shirt in the middle of the street to talk about last night! Please, _do_ something,” she begged. “She hasn’t once, not _once_ , shut up about yesterday’s attack! I don’t want to be her best friend anymore!”

            “Come on, Ninette. You’ve only been with her for like a couple hours,” Nino scorned. “Try sleeping in the same bed.”

            Marinette rolled her eyes at him, and Adrien couldn’t help but notice the familiarity of the movement– Ladybug rolled her eyes at Cat Noir in the very same way. Adrien felt something sting his heart when his partner’s name crossed his mind, and took another sip of his drink to drown the feeling.

            “Can I get you anything?” Nino then asked Marinette, and though the former tried to keep a straight face, Adrien was certain the barman’s grin would be visible from space.

            “I’d like a tall glass of ice water, please.”

            “Coming right up, kiddo,” he replied, tipping the front of his visor cap.

            Marinette rolled her eyes again, and snorted, before almost falling off her chair when Adrien suddenly turned to face her. He looked at her with round eyes and a very concentrated face, as if he was trying to read her, but only succeeded in making her blush. “I-is… uh… Is something bothering you?” he asked her, and the concern in his voice nearly made her want to spill out to him everything about last night’s events.

            She looked down, as blood rushed to her face. “Yeah… Kinda,” she admitted shyly, as her lips curled into a small, discreet smile.

            “Do you– Uh… Do you want to talk about… it?” Adrien carefully asked, as he straightened up to give her more space.

            “I do,” she said, and she was staring up at him now, and her smile was broader, full of mischief and slyness. “But if I tell you anything,” she went on playfully, “I would have to kill you, afterward.”

            “I think it’s a fair trade,” Adrien shot back, only half-serious. “I get your darkest secrets, and you get my life.”

            Marinette let out a soft chuckle and teasingly poked the tip of his nose. “What about you, huh?” she asked defiantly, gesturing to the drink in his hand. “Are you trying to drink you problems away? Well, let me tell you something. If it didn’t work for Felix, it certainly won’t work for you,” she added, on a more grim, almost sinister tone. Her expression saddened at the mention of his brother, but Adrien didn’t want to let go of witty Marinette just yet.

            “Is that the reason why you never tried it?” he challenged her, a snarky smirk on his face.

            If his question took her a little by surprise, she managed to recompose fast enough. “Alcohol is for the weak, _I_ do _drugs_ ,” she quipped, but her smile dropped when shock was painted all over Adrien. “Oh my Gosh! I’m _kidding_!” she panicked with red cheeks and a shaky voice. “I swear! I never touched that stuff, I promise… It’s the song lyrics! I–“

            “No need to brag about it Ninette,” Nino interrupted her, as he brought her her water. “It just shows just how boring you really are.”

            “Huh,” Marinette snorted. “Speak for yourself, mister. _I_ , at least, do not need to shut off half my brain’s activities or kill off my neurons to have fun,” she carried on confidently, folding her arms on her chest with a daring gaze.

            “Yeah?” Nino defied her, a nasty smirk on his face. “Amsterdam, July 2015,” he boldly stated, as Marinette’s speechless expression shamefully admitted defeat.

            “Are you seriously going to bring that up each freaking time?” she raged, slamming her fists on the counter, but her movements were unsynchronized, her voice was too acute, and she was too petite and beautiful, for anyone to really be afraid of her. “Not cool, Nino. Not cool,” she muttered, quickly looking away, and her frown struggled to erase all the pink that invaded her face.

            Nino was laughing, hard and loud, and Adrien knew in his guts that he shouldn’t pry, but he couldn’t help it– He was naturally curious, and the worse thing that could happen anyway, were his questions to be left unanswered. “Why? What happened in Amsterdam?”

            Marinette’s head immediately jerked up, full-alert, and she threatened her friend with a jittery finger. “Nino, I swear to God…”

            But Nino’s smile only widened, as he turned to face Adrien, waving off Marinette’s warnings with a cocky arrogance. “You know what ‘stardust’ stands for?”

            “Uh… U-um… Glitter?” Adrien attempted.

            “Close. But it’s actually a nickname for cocaine,” Nino explained, before looking back at his friend.

            “You sniffed cocaine?” Adrien blurted out, flabbergasted by the thought.

            “I didn’t sniff cocaine!” Marinette exclaimed, but her anger was so easy to make fun of. “Nino! Will you stop telling people this?”

            “Yeah… She didn’t sniff it. She _smoked_ it,” Nino pointed out.

            “I thought it was weed, okay?!” Marinette admitted in an anxious attempt to explain herself. “You do _not_ waste a trip to Amsterdam by not trying out weed and hookers!” she went on, unrestrained, and only took account on her words, when Adrien’s cheeks turned bright red, and Nino shot her a devious look. “I did _not_ get a hooker, _okay_?” she shrieked. “Oh my _God_ , Nino! You are _so_ dead!”

            “And… How exactly are _you_ going to do it? Huh? You’re not a match for me!” he told her, flexing both his biceps to show off the muscles she didn’t have.

            “I’ll pay someone to do it, then,” she countered, as Adrien let out a muffled giggle.

            “Hit men cost more than you can afford, Ninette,” Nino reminded her. “Are you willing to sell your boutique?”

            “For you to stop mentioning that godforsaken trip again? It’ll be worth every penny,” she scorned, with an arrogant hair flip.

            “And how do you plan to explain to your best friend that you were the one behind her boyfriend’s murder?” Nino was bold enough to ask.

            “I won’t have to,” Marinette replied. “By the time she finds out, I’ll already be off to Mexico.”

            “What’s in Mexico?” wondered a voice behind her.

            A startled sigh escaped Marinette’s mouth before she turned around to face Alya. “Nothing,” she said, and she was a little less on edge now that she was joined by her best friend. “Mexico will be my hiding place when I kill your boyfriend.”

            “Nino,” Alya groaned, before taking place next to Marinette. “Stop bringing up the Amsterdam story again. It’s not funny anymore– Huh? What’s that? Are you seriously making her drink in a plastic cup?”

            “Hey! The girl broke half of my crystals,” Nino complained. “She has two left hands! I’m just being cautious.”

            “Whatever,” Marinette susurrated. “Don’t you have anywhere _else_ to be?”

            “Come on, Ninette!” Nino laughed out loud, as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and rubbed his free fist against her head. “I tease you, and you get all mad, and klutzy, and adorable– It’s our _thing_!”

            “Whatever,” Marinette mumbled again, while struggling to keep her frown– As hard as she might try, she never really could be angry at Nino. “Oh, Adrien, that’s my best friend Alya, by the way. But we call her Satan behind her back. And, as you must’ve figured out by now, that’s Nino, her boyfriend. Alya, that’s Felix’s brother, Adrien Agreste.”

            “Nice to meet you, Alya,” Adrien greeted.

            “Likewise,” Alya replied, smiling. “So, no one’s gonna ask me where I was?” she asked, her hands on her hips, as her boyfriend slowly let go of her best friend.

            “You went rock-climbing with me,” the latter stated, raising an eyebrow as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious.

            “No, silly. I meant where I was just now!” Alya specified with shining eyes.

            “If it’s anything Ladybug-related, I don’t wanna know,” her boyfriend warned her.

            “Yeah, I side with Nino on this one,” Marinette added.

            “Come on, you guys! You know how important it is to me!” Alya protested.

            “And you know how important my mental health is to me. If I hear the word ‘Ladybug’ again, I think I’m gonna burst!” Nino countered.

            Alya pouted, but neither he nor Marinette flinched.

            “Come on,” Adrien pleaded. “It could uh… be interesting?” It was clear that Adrien wasn’t trained sufficiently to resist Alya’s baby doll eyes, so Nino and Marinette couldn’t exactly blame him.

            “I’m beginning to like you, Blondie,” the red-haired woman imparted. “Okay,” she carried on, suddenly very excited. “So, Marinette? Remember that girl with the Ladybug t-shirt? Turns out she works as a banquet manager, a sort of party planner, I think, and, while we were chatting, I told her that I was a reporter at _Le Figaro_. It didn’t take her long to recognize me from the Ladyblog after that, and she straightaway invited me to an auction event she’s organizing next month–!”

            “Alya! That’s amaz–“ Marinette started, before immediately being cut off by her best friend.

            “That’s not the exciting part!” the latter exclaimed. “She is a Ladybug fan too, you see, and she told me to come because, last time she was throwing this auction event for this same family, they happened to sell a very old book about superheroes– It was the same week Ladybug and Cat Noir came to existence, that’s why she still remembered.”

            “A b- _book_?” Adrien echoed, as Marinette went still beside him.

            “Yeah,” Alya pursued. “An old storybook, apparently. She said it had really cool drawings... But because most of the buyers were European, and weren’t really familiar with Asian tongues, it was sold for barely a hundred euros. Interesting, is it not? She said that they’ll maybe have another superhero-related item to sell this year, and that I might get lucky… But then again, people who are invited to these kinds of events are like Chuck-Bass-rich, so… Hey? You okay, guys?” she suddenly asked, finally becoming aware of Adrien and Marinette’s paleness.

            The faces they wore were almost worrying, and, as they looked at her, their glare was a little unsettling. It was Marinette who spoke first, “Um… you don’t uh– happen to know the name of the host family, do you?”

            Her voice was barely audible, and Alya felt bad for not having a proper answer. “I-I… didn’t ask. Sorry…”

            But her best friend was quick to dismiss the subject. “It’s fine. I-I was just curious…”

            Adrien had to admit that knowing the host family’s name could’ve indeed come in handy, but chose to stay silent, and chewed on the small pieces of information that Alya had provided him with, carefully tucking them away in a special compartment of his brain, for later use–

            He realized he must’ve zoned out of the conversation for a while, because Marinette was laughing when he came back to his senses, and they were already talking about something else.

            “Yeah, yeah… Why don’t you shut up and make me a delicious Brandy Alexander, instead?” Alya pestered her boyfriend, a wily smile on her lips.

            “A Brandy Alexander, seriously?” the latter repeated. “You know I’ll have to take out the manual for that!” he accused her.

            “Yeah, I know,” Alya had no problem admitting.

            “Not cool.”

            “Hey,” Adrien called him before he disappeared to the kitchens. He shyly gestured to his empty glass and asked for another one.

            “Wow, bro… You really need to ease down your alcohol intake,” Nino advised, and Adrien could’ve taken it in the wrong way, but the genuine concern in the barman’s voice was enough to persuade him of the latter’s good intentions. “Do you want me to call your bodyguard or something to get you outta here?”

            “I would like that, as soon as I get another drink.”

            “Your call,” Nino shrugged, and he vanished behind the curtains that led to the back, Alya to his heals.

            “Hey… Adrien?” Marinette called in a whisper, gently placing her hand on top of his, and the shock of the contact made his shoulders go stiff. Marinette almost withdrew, not wanting to overstep, but he caught her fingers in his, and she let herself relax. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you… It’ll be okay, I promise.”

            Adrien wasn’t looking at her, too focused on the warmth her palm radiated, but her words made their way into his brain and sent shivers down his spine. “I– Yeah. Thanks, Marinette.”

            “I’m serious,” she insisted, letting a chuckle slip, as she squeezed his hand carefully. “We all have our moments of blues, and we all go through some kind of breakdowns. But tomorrow, in a month, or two, or even in a year, all this strain won’t mean anything.”

            Adrien snorted. “Are you trying to tell me that time heal all wounds?”

            Marinette laughed softly. “No. But what I am trying to tell you is that time will help you cope with them,” she said. “And if you need anything, and I mean it, I’m just a call away. Okay?”

            Adrien blushed, as his fingertips went cold. “I– You don’t have to do this,” he assured her, and he turned his face away from her, suddenly incapable of holding her gaze.

            When Marinette looked down, however, their hands were still entangled, and she smiled to herself. “I know,” she replied, stroking the back of his hand in the same comforting manner that Cat Noir used to soothe her. “I guess I do have a soft spot for the Agreste brothers, after all. Phone please?”

            Adrien had divided his contact list into four categories. Work, containing over a hundred phone numbers, Social Platform, Family, where a little less than a dozen names were entered, and Friends, that Marinette chose to select– Felix’s name was the only one inputted. As much as she wanted to comment about it, she restrained herself and quickly saved her number on Adrien’s phone. “Here,” she said, before sliding it back to his side of the counter.

            Nino, coming out of nowhere, easily intercepted it, to both their surprises. “’Know what? Let’s make that pool even bigger. Any friend of Ninette’s is a friend of mine,” he said, as he keyed in his information.

            “T-Thanks…” was all Adrien was able to utter.

            “Here you go, Blondie,” Alya suddenly horned in, replacing his empty glass by another, with a kind smile on her face. “Johnnie on the rocks,” she then informed him, before taking the phone off her boyfriend’s hands. “Give it! My turn.”

            It was about that time Marinette’s ringtone went off, startling her and her friends. She tried to reach for it in her bag almost immediately, but realized too late that her hand was still enrolled with Adrien’s, and almost fell off her stool– again. “Sorry,” he said, as he let go of her.

            She smiled at him like it was no big deal and searched her handbag for her phone, only to find it in one of her jacket pockets afterward. Adrien recognized Jagged Stone’s very first hit song, _Enter Jagged_ , featured on his second album, _Guitar Autopsy_ , and, although it wasn’t exactly his favorite song, he seemed rather content that he and Marinette shared similar music tastes– The bass was too slow, and the drums, too loud– When it was released, Jagged Stone was fairly new to the music industry, and was trying out different styles to find the one that would suit him best. And then, it hit him; what she meant by her ‘Alcohol is for the weak’ break out.

            When she answered the call, Marinette’s hands were still a little shaky, and the phone slid right through her fingers– It would’ve probably drowned in her water cup if Nino’s reflexes weren’t as sharp– The latter caught it midair, and Marinette could breathe again. “No comment,” he twitted, shooting her a crafty look, before handing her the phone back– Someone was already talking, trying to reach her, from the other side of the line.

            “Oh, fuck off,” she shot back, blushing, and hating on her legendary clumsiness, but Nino and Alya couldn’t contain their laughs. “He-Hello?”

            “ _Marinette Dupain-Cheng?_ ” the voice in the box asked, as Marinette gulped, and the whole squad went silent.

            “Uh… This is um– This is she.”

            “ _Good afternoon, Ms. Cheng. My name is Natalie Sancœur. I work for_ Agreste Designs _, as Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant. Mr. Agreste is the C.E.O. of his own enterprise_ _._ ”

            “Y-Yes, I… know who he is…”

            “ _Perfect. Then there is no need for presentations_ _._ ”

            Natalie’s voice was cold and stung the air Marinette’s was breathing. Nevertheless, the latter tried her best to remain calm, and unshaken– Even when both Nino and Alya came pressing their ears on each side of her head to be sure not to miss a glimpse of the conversation. She looked over at Adrien, and the smile that he addressed her was enough to make her relax instantly– She thought it odd because, as she came to realize it over the years, only Cat Noir seemed to possess the strange ability to control her heartbeat suchlike.

            “Okay…” she breathed into the device.

            “ _Good. The purpose of my call is to let you know that Mr. Agreste was thinking about collaborating with_ Lady Luck _on an important project he is currently working on_ _._ ”

            “W-What? With _me_? I mean– R-really?”

            “ _Yes. I understand you and Mr. Agreste have been… associates, in the past. How do you feel about working with him again? But, this time, as colleagues_ _._ ”

            “Are you kidding me?! Of course! Yes! It’ll be an honor! Uh… I mean… Um–“ Marinette blurted out, as she searched her surroundings frenetically for any sign betraying the fact that this was all but a dream.

            “ _You’ve already made quite a name for yourself, Ms. Cheng, but this collaboration could turn your little boutique into a more notable enterprise_ _._ ”

            “Yes, yes! I… I’m well aware of the importance that this opportunity presents… Uh– Can I… Can I call you back?”

            “ _Certainly. I will send you all side information via e-mail– Mr. Agreste will be pleased if you could manage to provide us with an answer by the end of next week_ _._ ”

            “Uh– Sounds doable. Again, thanks– I mean, thank you, so much, for uh… considering me.”

            “ _That’s only natural, seeing that you have made quite an impression on Mr. Agreste, in the past. I remember you were once his apprentice_.”

            Marinette nearly chocked– She couldn’t believe Gabriel Agreste still remembered her… and didn’t _hate_ her for daring to interfere in a matter that only concerns him and his son– He made it quite clear, at the time, that he was considerably displeased, and disappointed, by her attitudes. She wanted to say something to Natalie but suddenly found herself incapable of speech.

            “ _I hope to hear from you very soon, Ms. Cheng_ _._ ”

            After Natalie hanged up on Marinette, Alya was the first one to react. “Oh, my _fucking_ sweet Jesus, Marinette!” she cried out, completely unable to contain her excitement. “ _Gabriel Agreste_ wants _you_ to collaborate with him?! Am I dreaming, or what? I bet you got a little guardian angel to thank for that!” she added, with a wink full of hidden meanings.

            “Felix!” Marinette sighed, stunned by the sudden realization. “I– I need to call him!” And she did, or tried at least, because it went right through voice mail. “Darn it.”

            “He’s probably still at work,” Nino suggested.

            Marinette shrugged it off and made a mental promise to try again later. “Yeah. Now… Remember that party you’re throwing me on Saturday?”

            Nino and Alya’s smiles widened at the same time as if they were both reading Marinette’s mind. “Bigger, better, _huge-r_! I got you, girl!” Alya assured her, holding up her glass, toasting to the good news.

            “Hey, Nino! How about you make that two Brandy Alexander?” Marinette asked, wrapping her arms and legs around her best friend, capturing her in a friendly embrace that threatened to never let go of her– Alya was very okay with that, as she slowly leaned back on the young aspiring designer,

            “Marinette, you don’t drink. And for good reasons, might I add,” Nino reminded her.

            “Well, kids,” Marinette announced, locking eyes with Adrien, whose congratulations got lost in the chaos, “it appears that Lady Stardust is back for the week-end!”

            “It’s Thursday,” Nino said, bursting her joy bubble once again.

            “God, you’re such a buzzkill!” Alya pestered.

            Nino folded his arms on his chest and frowned at the two girls. “And _she_ has the tolerance of a fetus. I don’t want her running around naked in the streets– Someone’s got to be responsible. It’s a virgin for you, Ninette.”

            “Whatever, Lahiffe,” Marinette shot back, finally letting go of Adrien’s gaze. “Nothing can ruin this for me.”

 

***

 

Marinette was… _bold_. And kind, and soft, and her smile was _devastating_. She knew what she wanted, and knew exactly how to take it. She stood up for her friends, for Felix, saved the latter from himself when even he had given up, and was now trying to salvage Adrien’s soul.

            Marinette was all kinds of things. She was creative– an entrepreneur. She could be fierce, and fatally beautiful, or she could be clumsy, and angry, and adorable.

            Her heart was big, and she wore it on her sleeve. She was zealous, keen, and passionate. One would see the shyness she desperately tried to keep off the surface, and think her fragile, but she was too hard to break– A shield of pure white energy radiated from her skin and made her indestructible. She was impossible not to like, and not to love… She was a goddess of goodness walking among the human wretch, rescuing soul after soul, and was only tainted with her vessel’s imperfections– But even those, on her, could only be viewed as virtues. If Adrien wasn’t already in love with Ladybug, it wouldn’t have taken him much to fall in love with Marinette as well.

            “So, yeah. That’s me! I– Um… See you at the party?” she asked him softly, placing a gentle hand on his knee, sending a strike of electricity up his leg.

            It was a little late when Alya and Marinette decided to head home for the day, and, because the boys weren’t too keen on the idea of having them taking the subway at this hour, Adrien proposed to drive them.

            Alya was living with Nino in a nice apartment in the eighth district, so she got off before Marinette, leaving her and Adrien, alone, in the back seat of his limo. They didn’t talk much, but Adrien assumed it was because the ride was so short– Too short for his liking, anyway.

            “Y-yeah… For sure. Can’t– Can’t wait!” he stammered, and was immediately rewarded with a smile.

            “Awesome!” she let out in a whisper, as she reached for the door handle– She opened it, and the cold air rushed into the car.

            As she was about to get out, she stopped last second, and faced a very confused Adrien, that she kissed, right next to the corner of his mouth, before disappearing into the night, leaving him burnt, and completely paralyzed. The car started again as soon as the door closed behind her fading silhouette, and Plagg didn’t wait for a second to fly out of his shirt pocket.

            “Wow…,” he whistled, visibly impressed. “A touch to the knee? A kiss on the cheek? I gotta admit… This girl is _good_ … Already got you all wrapped around her finger. Missy knows her game…”

            “What are you mumbling about, now?” Adrien sighed, and the feel of Marinette was still dizzying him.

            “What is it about Asian girls, boy, huh?” Plagg sneered, landing on his owner’s shoulder to get a better view of his completely baffled expression. “Seems to me like you got a type.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [About A Girl, Nirvana](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WedEkDQltA)


	6. Hell Ain’t a Bad Place to Be

 

_Your longing is a fire, it sets your skin ablaze,_

_You feel that itch each time you meet his god-like gaze…_

 

Marinette’s hand reached for the golden pendant she wore around her neck– She never took it off, always had it right there, carefully tucked under the hem of her tee-shirt. It was cold and hard under her touch, but the contact oddly soothed her and was enough to kill the little goblin that crackled absurdities in the back of her mind. It was a gift from an old woman, who was akumatized some years ago– A sweet mother her children ended up confining into a convalescent home.

            She was turned on her late husband’s ninety-third birthday, while she was looking over some old pictures she had taken out for the occasion, and immediately associated her loneliness and depression to the wrinkles that scarred her skin. Staring at her younger self made her miss her old face even more, a face so beautiful, and fresh, and perfect, no one has ever dared to overlook, and Hawk Moth gave her the means to build herself a new one.

            So she went on, scouring the streets and stripping young girls off their beauty, taking away the glow of pregnant women, and the splendor of nervous brides, stealing noses, chins, and lips, that she ingeniously placed around her _pièce de résistance_ , Ladybug’s aura– With it, she had taken away the superhero’s ability to laugh and feel happiness, and Marinette, to this day, still remembered the hole her optimism left in her, as it vanished, and the bitterness of feeling useless when her luck was compromised…

            After she was defeated, and thus freed from Hawk Moth’s bewitchment, the poor woman decided that her thank yous weren’t enough to show her gratitude, and gifted the pendant to Ladybug, “ _Your heart is pure and fragile. Do not give it out to anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and keep it hidden in this_ ,” she had told her, before turning to Cat Noir to give him the central piece of her late husband’s Zippo lighters collection, that she kept in her purse at all times, right next to pictures of her grandchildren. “ _Your eyes are inhabited by the ghosts of your past and reflect the thoughts of a tormented soul. This is the Golden Spade Card, one of the rarest zippo lighter in the world. It helped me find some light even in the darkest of places. Keep it._ ”

            Today, Marcella Ashram was dead, but Marinette still held on to the pendant. For a second, she wondered what happened to Cat Noir’s zippo (he probably sold it), before quickly pushing away the thought– Just saying his name in her head brought up the vicious memory of the other night, the warmth of his hands around her waist, the glow of his face, when she told him she loved him, and the despair in his voice, when he tried to convince her to stay… She let out a loud sigh to stifle the images in her mind, and opened her eyes to face Master Fu, sitting right across the table, quietly stroking down his beard, waiting for her to break the silence, while Tikki and Wayzz played hide-and-seek behind the curtains.

            “Okay, so,” Marinette finally started, laying out several picture in front of her mentor, “I did some research, and– Six years ago, this super rich guy, William Longshadow died from a heart attack,” she said, pointing to a picture of an old businessman in a brown suit. “He was a collector and possessed a bunch of very old, very expensive stuff. He left it all to his granddaughter, a woman named Lily Dévereux,” she went on, now showing him Dévereux’s picture. “Poor woman didn’t know what to do with all this crap, so she threw an auction event to sell everything out. All profits went to charity,” she felt necessary to add. “Of course, a lot of auctions were organized six years ago, but this particular one stood just a few months after Longshadow’s death, and only three days before the birth of Ladybug and Cat Noir,” she specified, before searching the file she had spent all of last night compiling, to take out a couple more pictures she wanted to show Master Fu. “Now, I was able to find some of the items that were sold that day, like this 1968 Custom Volkswagen Hot Wheel, for example, or David Bowie’s 1974 _Diamond Dog_ album on vinyl, but to get the whole list, and the people to whom the items were sold to, we need to get a special permission from Lily Dévereux herself.”

            “This is good news, right?” Master Fu asked when he realized that Marinette was done talking.

            The latter snorted– Fu didn’t take it as a good sign. “Yeah,” she sighed, “if I had a billion dollars bank account and an easy access to Paris’ High Society… Dévereux is never gonna give a girl like me permission to look into these records, and I can’t access them without it… So, here goes our only strong lead, unless…” She paused, waited for Master Fu to meet her gaze, before carrying on, “Like… I could still ask her as Ladybug?”

            Master Fu’s answer to this was immediate, “And risk Hawk Moth finding out about our intentions? Absolutely not."

            “Then, what can we do?” Marinette queried, suddenly out of ideas.

            “Leave this part to me. I have some connections in the Center and the Upper West Side,” he assured her, right before the sound of the akuma alert cut short their debriefing meeting.

            “What? An akuma? So soon?” Marinette wondered out loud, before getting to her feet and calling her kwami to position. “I just… I don’t understand… We fought one just the other day…”

            “You don’t have to understand, Ladybug,” Fu reminded her. “The mind of a disturbed individual is wired backward, and speaks only in wrath and restlessness,” he quoted, as Wayzz gently landed on his shoulder. “You should go. We can talk later.”

            “Tikki, spots on!” Marinette shouted, as the little goddess of luck zoomed into her earrings, and a million rays of pink light showered her.

 

As the masking effects of denial and isolation began to fade away, reality and its pain re-surfaced, smoldering him with umbrage and resentment.

            His temper sparked and Adrien’s fists clasped the handles of his foosball table, before smashing it to the wall, destroying the portable mini-football field that his brother had bought him for his thirteenth birthday, as molten anger rolled through him, and the fury that was bellowing through his mind and twisting his insides finally sprang to life–

            He let out a long, piercing roar, as rage pulsed through his veins, quickening his blood, and slowly overpowering him. He was a ball of pure wrath and had just burst into flames.

            Then, everything went quiet, and he could breathe again. His skin was flushed and his face felt hot, sliming with sweat and tears. Cold air rushed to his lungs, as he struggled to steady the rate of his heartbeat. His jaw was still clenched, and he could feel his gums bleeding, punishing him for all this needless teeth gritting. His muscles were tense, still flicking with ire and electricity, but there wasn’t anything left to break. So, he just turned around, to face the extent of the damage.

            His bedroom was ruined– His T.V. was shattered and on the ground, his mirror was in pieces, and his bed mattress was torn; springs and foam were trickling out of the hole he had punctured into it. All his clothes, blankets, and cushions were on the floor, all his C.D.s were out of their cases, and his headboard was totally wrecked. As he took in the sight, he realized he didn’t need Cat Noir’s cataclysm to destroy what he touched– Rejection, frustration, hurt, and powerlessness were enough to push him off edge. The only thing that seemed to have survived the blast was his computer– His mother’s face was his screen saver, and he hasn’t dared lay a hand on it.

            “Don’t worry… Everything will be okay,” Plagg promised, and his voice was so gentle, it almost surprised Adrien. He let out a sharp sigh and dove right into his owner’s blond curls– As the latter came to realize over the years, it was the kwami’s very own, very special way of hugging people– Well, of hugging him. “You’re both just two idiots in love. People write stories about you– And I’ve watched enough romantic comedies with you to know that it always ends happily.”

            Adrien snorted. “You know, in real life, things tend to be a tiny bit different…”

            “What are you talking about? You’ve been balancing your life between your superhero duties and the runway. At this point, I say that anything is believable,” Plagg replied, softly kneading his owner’s hair while he talked. “Plus, if Scott Pilgrim managed to get the girl in the end, I don’t see why you can’t,” he added, and his purrs were louder now as if they dared Adrien to try and challenge anything the god of bad luck and destruction had to say. “I’m serious! Don’t give up just yet. Ramona Flowers was also a pain at the beginning of the movie. And to quote the genius Wallace Wells, ‘if you want something bad, you gotta fight for it. Step up your game,’ kid.”

            Adrien scoffed then pinched the bridge of his nose in weariness. “I already broke out the L-word, Plagg,” he reminded him, before shooting in his trashcan. “But O.M.G., who cares? Right?” he asked dully.

            “She said she loved you back!” the kwami almost yelled, shoving his claws into his owner’s scalp, hoping that it would be enough to knock some sense into him.

            “Then why doesn’t she want to be with me?”

            Plagg was about to say something, but his words got lost forever when he saw a red dot appear in the sky, only to get bigger and bigger, as it dashed in their direction. “Good question,” he said, as he carefully slid into Adrien’s shirt pocket. “Why don’t you ask her?”

            “Great idea. I’ll just wait another six months to see her again, since she’s probably not even gonna want to look at me during patrol, and–“ Adrien was turning his back to the windows, so, when he heard the crash, he didn’t know what had caused it. “What the Hell?”

            He spun around, but smog, dirt and broken glass clouded his vision. He courageously took a couple steps forward but had to stop when breathing became too trying. As the smoke slowly began to fade away, Adrien noticed with awe the human-shaped hole that pierced the skylight, then blinked at the shadow that was lying on the floor, almost invisible in the chaos– It tried to get up, but slipped, and fell again. Adrien just about forgot all of his deepest survival instincts and heedlessly laid a helping hand to the intruder.

            His heart skipped a beat when Ladybug’s face loomed out of the fog. “L-Ladybug! A-Are you okay?” he managed to choke out, while his brain was steadily failing, his knees were shaking unstoppably, and his entire being was boiling up.

            “Huh? Um… Y-yeah, yeah… I’m…” Her eyes were still closed, and it was probably a bad idea for her to stand up, so Adrien cautiously guided her to his sofa, where he instructed her to sit. She obeyed without hesitation– She was too dizzy to argue, anyway. “I’m… fine… I’m sorry to just burst in this way but…” she whispered, rubbing the back of her neck, unable to restrain an ugly wince.

            “Nonsense,” he assured her immediately. “It’s the least I can do… I mean, you’re kind of the reason this city hasn’t fallen yet…”

            “One of two reasons, yes,” she swiftly rectified him. “I wouldn’t be able to do half of what I do without Cat Noir, you know,” she added, and at that, Adrien smiled shyly. “Wait… W-what happened in here?” she asked when she couldn’t stand the blindness anymore.

            “Oh, uh… N-Nothing… I– Let’s just say that Agreste men aren’t especially good at handling… strong emotions– Wait! You’re… you’re bleeding!” he pointed out, as he suddenly went pallid.

            “Am I?” she wondered, lifting a hand to her forehead, for it was where she hurt the most. “Oh yeah… Seems like I am…”

            “Stay here,” he told her, “I have a first aid kit in my bathroom…”

            “Oh, there’s no need for that… I’ll just take care of it later…”

            “Are you serious?” he asked jokingly, but his smile fell off when she didn’t laugh. “We need to stop the flow,” he said more seriously, as he carefully pressed his handkerchief onto her injury. “We don’t want you bleeding all over Paris, now, do we? What if some crazed fan managed to put his hand on it and ran a sample for analysis in order to discover your true identity?” he joshed her again, but she still took him seriously.

            “Oh, come on… That is very unlikely… isn’t it?” she asked innocently, and the fierce woman that fought big, scary, deadly akumas like it was no big deal, was suddenly swallowed up by all the candidness that innately radiated from her– This was the Ladybug he had fallen for, he noticed, as his cheeks swelled with pink and red.

            “Just say put,” he said, looking everywhere but in her direction. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

            Ladybug didn’t exactly want to stay, especially with an akuma let loose on the streets of Paris and Cat Noir still running AWOL, but she had to admit that she needed a little time to quench her wheezing and rest her aching body.

            Her suit usually kept her from being too cold, or too hot, and feeling pain– The real strenuousness, however, she thought to herself, was when she had to take it off after a fight, only to discover new wounds and bruises, and had to learn to adjust to sore, exhausted muscles.

            Now, she was bleeding, sure, but it was a small price to pay to be able to walk again this soon after a fall like this one– She was just thrown off the rooftop of _L’Orangerie_ and went through double glazed glass, for God’s sake. Taking into consideration that the Agreste mansion was located in the third district and that the museum stood right in the middle of the Tuileries Gardens, her overthrow was, for the least, spectacular.

            She didn’t have anything broken, which was undeniably a miracle– Tikki always favored the protection of her skeleton and vital organs over that of skin, for the simple reason that broken bones and punctured lungs weren’t exactly the best assets during a fight, and had a harder time to heal after damage, whereas flesh regenerated much more quickly.

            “So… two akumas the same week? Seems to me like Hawk Moth’s feeling a little jumpy…”

            Ladybug was so deep in thought, Adrien’s voice surprised her. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, as he made his way towards her. “I’m just here to fight them off, I guess… Saving people and all… Well, you know what they say… ‘With great powers, come great responsibilities’…”

            “Did you just quote Uncle Ben?” he asked teasingly, before taking place next to her.

            He took out bandages and antiseptic, and began to clean her wound, trying his best to ignore her wincing and jaw clenching. “Maybe,” she finally replied. “I was kind of a big fan of Spiderman, growing up and– W-wait… what’s that? What are you doing?” she asked when he took out a needle holder and surgical silk from his first aid kit.

            “Stitching you up!” he said as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious.

            “Y-you don’t need to do that… A Band-Aid is just fine, for now. I’ll do it myself later…” she assured him, unwittingly moving away from him.

            “Don’t you trust my sewing skills?” he asked, falsely outraged.

            “Well, sewing up flesh isn’t exactly the same thing as sewing up clothes, you know?”

            “I know,” he replied. “I’ve done it quite a few times on myself, actually.”

            The colors that tainted Ladybug’s face suddenly fainted. “WH-what?”

            Adrien scoffed. “It’s no biggy,” he scorned. “It was uh… a long time ago,” he started while readying his suture kit. “Back when I was a teenager. I… kind of had the habit of running away and getting into fights… I was also a little short on money at times, so I had to learn how to take care of myself,” he said, voluntarily omitting the fact that he also had to stitch up Cat Noir’s injuries at times, as well.

            “Quite the bad boy, aren’t we?” she teased.

            He let out a sincere chuckle, before placing the needle at the center of the wound. “I guess…” There was a certain pattern to follow when you were stitching up a wound– You had to begin at the center before sewing up the edges, and then carefully hemming the middle of each segment that was thus formed. Of course, Adrien has done it enough time already to be considered an expert, but somehow being this close to his partner’s face was somewhat disturbing. “But my deeds have hurt a lot of people,” he went on, if only to keep his mind from gamboling. “Especially my uh… my brother. So I’m kind of trying to repent myself, I guess? Sometimes,” he added, tilting his head sideways, “as you can see, it gets a little outta hand…”

            Adrien wasn’t particularly proud of it, but he was a very good liar, and no one, ever, had trouble believing him. He knew exactly how to manipulate the truth, in order to make little white lies conceivable, or how to let out just the right amount of details to make a tall story seem completely credible– That’s how he managed to keep his superheroic double-life a secret from an overly protective father all these years. At this point in his life, lying and derision were how he dodged questions he didn’t want to answer, remarks that made him uncomfortable, or just conversations he didn’t feel like having… But he never lied to Ladybug and, even though he couldn’t exactly tell her that he practically destroyed his room because she rejected him two days ago, doing it just felt wrong.

            “Hold still,” he muttered, when she moved– He couldn’t really blame her, he knew just how much it hurt, and she refused any alcohol he had handed her to help her cope with the pain.

            “I need you to cauterize it,” she told him when he was done. Ladybug didn’t have the habit of trusting people that easily– She probably wouldn’t have let Adrien anywhere near her if she didn’t know him as Marinette, but even then, she still was a little hesitant to accept his… assistance. However, now that he’s proven himself quite dependable, it was easier for her to ask for his help.

            He thought she wasn’t serious at first, so he laughed it off, expecting her to join him at any given moment. When she didn’t, he looked at her with round eyes, and was just about to speak, when she held up a hand to cut him off.

            “I know that the wound doesn’t seem like much, right now… I mean, yeah– But uh… once I take off the suit, it will probably get a whole lot uglier,” she tried to explain. “I can’t de-transform in a hospital parking lot without drawing attention to me, and I live at twenty minutes from the nearest one. I’ll never get there in time with all this Friday afternoon traffic– Especially if I have to drive myself since I most likely have a concussion… And the subway is…”

            “On strike,” he finished for her, still a little confused by all her babbling– She did that when she was nervous, he remembered, and curled his lips into a somewhat pleased smirk when she dropped her gaze to the ground and began to blush.

            “Right,” she breathed. “So, uh… I could do it myself, of course, but uh… I’d rather not…” she admitted, clenching her hands into fists, before shyly tucking them under the thighs.

            “I have a knife right here,” he said, gesturing to the plate his personal chef had brought up to him a little while ago– It would’ve been all spread out on the floor right now if Plagg hadn’t stopped him. “I’ll just… clean it with a little bit of sanitizer… See? One-hundred percent alcohol… And I should have a lighter on me somewhere…”

            Ladybug didn’t know that he smoked, and would’ve probably commented on it, if her heart wasn’t slamming so hard against her throat, not especially ready to endure the pain, and keeping her from forming grammatically correct sentences. He handed her the cushion that was at her feet and suggested her to bite on it while he was heating up the gleaming blade of the knife. She took a deep breath, and was about to do as told, when she noticed the lighter that he was holding. “Is that…?”

            “The Golden Spade Card, yes,” he replied, with a wide smile. “Quite difficult to put one’s hand on it, but still worth the trouble, is it not? Cost me a little fortune, I must admit.” He let out this lie a little more easily, this time. “Are you into vintage Zippo lighters, by any chance?”

            Oh. So Cat Noir did sell Marcella’s zippo lighter after all.

            She didn’t know why, but knowing it stung a little bit. “No, I uh…” she managed to choke out, and, at that, she instinctively reached for the hollow of her neck, where her pendant would’ve been if she wasn’t wearing her costume. “I just know someone who um… Who had an exact same one…”

            “There’s only one Golden Spade Card zippo left in the world,” Adrien remarked. “Your friend might be the one who sold it to me…”

            “Small world,” she observed, as she tried to hide the fact that Cat Noir selling the zippo affected her more than necessary.

            “Small word, indeed,” Adrien agreed. “Ready?” he asked, holding the hot blade up to her face.

            She bit on the cushion and nodded slowly, taking deep breathes to calm herself– This was going to hurt like a bitch.

            And like a bitch, it did hurt– She couldn’t contain a scream, or the tears that came flowing down her cheeks and, as she apologized for it to Adrien, he assured her that is was no big deal, that she probably went unnoticed, anyway. He was left undisturbed when he was yelling, and throwing and breaking things, alone in his room, so he figured no one would come to check on him now.

            “Let me just clean and bandage it, before you go,” he said, setting the knife aside, as Ladybug was slowly recovering from the pain.

            “Thanks, Adrien… Uh– I mean, Mr. Agreste,” she carelessly let slip out, and he looked at her with a confused frown and a million question on his face.

            “You know my name?” he asked her, slowly raising an alcohol-soaked cloth that he gently pressed against her forehead.

            “I mean… who doesn’t, right? The prodigy son of Gabriel Agreste… I-it just took me a little while to figure out which one you were…” she judiciously wriggled out of the dangerous slippery slope his question has set out for her.

            He seemed a little disappointed– Oh, well. “Right. Felix’s outta town, anyway. He’s been in Milan all week for a job interview, I think. He’s coming back tomorrow morning, so…” he said. “You know, I really don’t know why they call _me_ the prodigy son– Felix is way smarter than me. Do you know that he speaks like six languages? I can barely manage with half of that…” he went on, as he cautiously wrapped a band of gauze around her head.

            “Aren’t you like a Ph.D. in Biological Physics?” she asked, and he simply burst out laughing as he was tying up her bandage.

            “How do you know about that?”

            “Duh. The internet? I don’t live under a rock, you know,” she remarked. “Besides, don’t be so hard on yourself– I’m half-Chinese, but my Mandarin is shit… And don’t even get me started on my English!” she joked, and, as he heard her laugh, Adrien suddenly remembered all the reasons why she was so worth fighting for.

 

***

 

“So, what do we got here?” said a voice behind her back that made her jump altogether.

            Something Cat Noir has learned over the years he’s been working with her, is that Ladybug was way stronger than what her petite, delicate appearance let seem, and that she had really good reflexes– Thirty seconds did not pass by and she already had him cornered in a vulnerable position, hands and legs tied up, as she was firmly pulling on the rock-solid wire of her yo-yo, that she had tightened around his neck.

            It took her a moment to recognize the familiar cat ears and blond hair, and the precious green eyes of her partner, before hers rounded in stupefaction as all the blood in her feet came rushing to her face. “ _Jesus_!” she exclaimed, as she quickly tried to release him, her hands, shaking in embarrassment, and making it even harder for her to concentrate.

            “Nope– Just me, M’Lady…”

            She freed his neck first, and wondered if someone could hit themselves and actually feel pain, or if their brain really was automatically wired against involuntary self-injuries when she got a glimpse of the red line that choked his skin. “A-are you o-okay?” she asked shyly, and Cat Noir got the impression that she was about to cry. “I’m so sorry…”

            “It’s fine!” he promised her, smiling the widest he could to reassure her, without however appearing too eerie, “I’m fine… But– You know we’re only _fighting_ akumas, right? We’re not trying to kill them…” he tried to joke, to lighten the mood.

            Her mouth curled up into a narrow smile, which implied that it had worked, and Cat Noir took pride in it. “I will need to strangle you for ten minutes straight to kill you, but only four will suffice to knock you out,” she explained in a soft voice that didn’t match the crudeness of her words at all, as she carefully undid the knots around his wrists.

            “That’s… Awfully specific,” he commented, frowning. “How do you know all that, exactly?”

            “It’s just general knowledge, you know,” she slyly answered. “Plus, I’ve seen a lot of movies…”

            “ _I_ ’ve seen a lot of movies,” he replied, feeling up his freshly freed forearms. “I literally grew up watching movies, and I didn’t know that,” he said, and, as he was about to bend over to untie his legs, Ladybug was already on her knees, taking care of it for him.

            “Well, it’s not something you pick up while binge-watching Nicholas Sparks movies and wasting your time daydreaming about Mandy Moore’s legs and Rachel McAdams’s ass…” she fleered. “You need to watch better movies…”

            “Who told you I even like Rom-Coms?” he sniggered.

            “I don’t know,” she admitted quite easily. “You just look like the person who could pull a _Love Actually_ stunt and show up at my doorstep with a giant boom box and massive cue cards on which you would’ve written a heartfelt love declaration, telling me how perfect I am, and how you can’t uh… live without me…”

            Ladybug didn’t realize what she was saying until the words were out in the open. A long horrid silence ensued, during which she tried her best to ignore all the voices that were going crazy inside her mind by focusing on the task at hand: unhitching Cat Noir’s ankles. After a couple minutes of struggling, her yo-yo finally came undone, and she directly hooked it around her waist.

            She allowed herself to look up at him before getting up, and flushed entirely when she saw him staring back at her, finally becoming conscious of the very lewd position she got herself in– She was instantly on her feet after that, but was immediately captured by his gaze. “I would if only I knew where you lived,” he said in a low voice, and she had to take several steps backward to get ahold of her breath. “Right,” he sighed, as she dropped her eyes to the floor in embarrassment. “Hey, wait… What happened to you?” he asked, seeming to notice at last the gauze that she had tied around her head. “Are you okay?”

            Her hand unconsciously reached to her forehead. “Oh, yeah. I went through a window, got injured and… as you can see, I took care of it.”

            “You still need to get it checked, though,” he dully advised her, as he walked away from her– Ladybug was keeping trace of the akuma, well hidden behind a chimney when he joined her, and he was now standing at the very edge of the same rooftop, ready to jump.

            “I will.”

            “What can you tell me about the akuma?” he queried, and he was turning his back at her now, his pole in hands, more than eager to be done with all of this. His sudden coldness made her nauseous with fear and panic, while her heart was pounding, hard and unstoppable, wondering if her uncertainties have finally managed to draw him away. If she had finally lost him. He swung on his heels and turned to face her again, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow in apprehension. “So?” he asked again, a teasing smirk on his lips, as she slowly came back to her senses.

            She walked over to him, a little more confidently than she was feeling, smiled coyly, before they both stared down to the quiet, very empty streets of Paris. “His name is Strongarm and, although he shows super-strength abilities, he speaks like a ten-year-old. I think Hawk Moth just turned an innocent child into a monster that is now after his bullies.”

            “I see. They should be our top priorities, then,” Cat Noir remarked. “This damned butterfly stockbreeder is just a life-sucking energy-drinking negative bag of annoying Hell,” he sighed, under his breath, as Ladybug tried desperately to ignore the nonetheless very accurate comment.

            “I was thinking we could use them as bait,” she suggested, to her partner’s bewilderment. “We could hide them in the cells of the Conciergerie and wait for Strongarm at the front door. We’ll disguise the kids and make them look like Marie-Antoinette’s children statues so that if he manages to get in, we’ll still be able to stall him… He’s ten. There’s no way he can differentiate wax-people from real people… He shouldn’t be too difficult to handle… Right?”

            Cat Noir shot her a jaded look. “Have you ever been ten?”

            “Well yeah, obviously. But I never caused any troubles– I was a very quiet kid,” she said, thoughtfully scratching the back of her head.

            Cat Noir scoffed. “You don’t say. Bet you were your parents’ little angel… It must be what fucked you up!” he added, snickering, before jumping into the void, and he knew damn straight that his clever witticism wouldn’t be without consequences– At least, he thought, they were still able to talk to each other.

            “Hey!” Ladybug called after him, intuitively following his lead– She knew there were a lot of unspoken words between them, but, for now, she just wanted to set the other night’s events aside, and pretend things haven’t changed, pretend that they were still partners. Pretend that they were still best friends. Pretend that she didn’t know he loved her and that he was still unaware of her feelings for him.

            But if there was one thing that Cat Noir detested more than anything, it was to play pretend.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be, AC/DC](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_Ug90kissM)


	7. I'll Come Crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!  
> Thanks a lot for all your comments, I really appreciate them and reading them truly puts a smile on my face :)  
> Please don't hesitate to leave your thoughts down there- It's my first shot at writing a Miraculous fanfic and I would love to read what you think of my work so far!  
> On that note, enjoy! :D

Alya Césaire wasn’t exactly built to follow the rules– She never tried to break them, of course, but she always liked to test their elasticity.

            Alya Césaire was the kind of person that wouldn’t think twice before opening a mystery box where was specifically written in big, bold, red letters ‘DO NOT OPEN.’ For her, it wasn’t called ‘poking’ or ‘prying’ but rather ‘research.’ Nevertheless, she was still a very talented writer, and it was probably those very aspects of her personality that made her the outstanding reporter that she was today.

            Although she didn’t take no for an answer, she always talked with extreme diplomacy and politeness and had absolutely no problem shoving her pride down her pockets if it meant putting her hand on more juicy information. Her ability to play dumb, in addition to her inimitable manipulation skills, has always rewarded her with remarkable front page articles: she managed, more often than not, to find herself in the right place at the right time, digging up the perfect scoop. _Le Figaro_ just couldn’t let her go–

            And they definitely couldn’t lose her to _Paris Match_. Her boss, Francis Dewaleyne, was more than aware of that. So, after a countless number of boring meetings and a little more than a thousand hours of mind-numbing symposia, _Le Figaro Magazine_ had finally decided to create a new rubric for their weekly, called _The Masks of Paris_ , and dedicated it to the City of Lights’ iconic superhero duo–

            The magazine had to cut off three pages of crossword puzzles and Sudoku to be able to squeeze in the new content and, when Francis made Alya the head-director of this section, the latter couldn’t be more thrilled– She was done covering the personal lives of international French celebrities or the French President, and talking about Gérard Depardieu and Gad Elmaleh voluntary exiles… So, when Francis didn’t let her write about the pollution of the Seine, or the changes that were newly brought into the French educational system, turning it upside down, or even the Migrant Crisis that was wreaking havoc on the whole continent, Alya settled for the next best thing: the lingering defeating of Paris’s very own Joker.

            “C’mon babe, you’re being unreasonable!” Nino exclaimed, as he firmly stood between his girlfriend and the main door, in a last attempt to keep her away from the exit. “It’s dangerous, out there. You could get seriously injured!”

            “Look, Nino…“ Alya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, knowing perfectly that his genuine concern for her safety forbade her to be even remotely angry at him. “I just need a picture, okay? Francis is really risking his ass putting me in charge, so… I kinda owe him a pretty badass article,” she tried to explain for the fortieth time maybe, but Nino still didn’t budge.

            “I don’t care. You’re not getting out under my watch,” he said, determination shining in his eyes like two bright diamonds.

            “You know what? I love you and all,” she started, “but right now, you’re just being a huge dick,” she scoffed, her hands on her hips.

            “That’s fine. I can deal with name-calling,” he replied, crossing his arms on his chest. “I can’t deal with you being hurt.”

            Alya’s face suddenly softened and she was speechless.

            Nino and she went way back. When they met, it was her first day at a new school– They didn’t like each other, not like that at least, at first. In fact, at the time, Nino was crushing hard on her best friend Marinette.

            Fast forward to senior year, the three of them were now inseparable and Nino was still figuring out a way to ask out his shy clumsy classmate slash best friend– He had been pining after her for so long, Alya was beginning to feel bad for the bastard.

            So, being the _Some Kind of Wonderful_ fan that she was, she decided to let out her inner Watts and help Nino get his Amanda Jones. She had a plan and, as always, her plan was perfect: she was going to make Marinette fall in love with Nino, just in time for prom. She knew Marinette like the back of her hand, so, if someone had any idea of what her dream guy looked like, it was definitely her.

            Nino’s coaching began at the start of summer vacation right after junior year– First step was getting him to watch all of Marinette’s favorite movies. The latter was really into historical dramas, so _Citizen Kane_ and _La Vie Est Belle_ were obviously the first on the list… Alya was set on the idea of turning Nino Lahiffe into Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s ideal match.

            And everything would’ve worked out perfectly, if only the realization that Watts was helping out Keith Nelson because she was in love with him hadn’t had hit her at the worst possible moment– Nevertheless, Alya had worked too hard, and given too much to this project… She just couldn’t be the one to stand in between Nino and Marinette: they were perfect for each other– She had made sure of it.

            So, when she found out that Marinette had finally decided to go to prom with Nathaniel Kurtzberg, her first instinct, of course, was to confront Nino about it.

            There was yelling and crying, because, at the time, Alya wasn’t really perceived like the careful, tactful reporter that she was today, but, by some sort of end-of-school-beginning-of-summer miracle, Nino had finally managed to convince that he didn’t ask Marinette to prom because, although he still wanted to attend the party, he didn’t want to be there without the girl he was in love with.

            “Yes,” she remembered having said. “Marinette– You are in love with _Marinette_. But now, this clueless _doofus_ is going to prom with fucking Nathaniel Kurtzberg because you weren’t fast enough! I told you not to stall, Nino!”

            “I’m not in love with Marinette,” was his reply– Calm, steady, perfect… Her _Some Kind of Wonderful_ fantasy coming to life right in front of her, choking every angry word she still needed to shout at him, before they were even able to be pronounced. “Well, not anymore. Alya… I am in love with _you_.”

            Alya took in a deep breath and reached for her perfect boyfriend’s face to kiss him. “Okay, fine,” she finally yielded. “I’ll stay. I’ll just use some old picture from the _Ladyblog_ or something.”

            Nino sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

            Yup– Alya was still definitely in love with Nino, she thought to herself, as she put down her camera and recorder, and, just like in high school, she would do just about anything for him today. “Okay, so… what now?” she asked, coyly biting on her lower lip, as she held her boyfriend’s gaze, her eyes, full of unspoken innuendos.

            Nino’s perfect brown lips curled into a flirty smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. “I might have an idea or two…” he said, as he gently leaned towards her, delicately wiping the smug look off her face.

            Although Alya and Nino had been dating ever since they were eighteen, the first years of their relationship weren’t exactly… ideal.

            See, Nino wanted to get into a good, renowned business school, however, in order to that in France, preparatory classes were a necessity.

            Alya had great plans too, but when her family decided to move south, she had to reconsider; Paris was too expensive– There was no way her parents could afford to rent her an apartment in the capital, along with reimbursing all of their house loans. So, she had to leave the Seine and the Eiffel Tower behind her and relocate at eight hours by train from Nino and Marinette.

            The change was drastic, but she was used to moving around, she guessed, so she tried to make the most of it, while trying her best to keep in contact with both of them.

            The long-distance nearly destroyed her couple more than once, and Nino and she actually broke up over the phone right before finals, after almost two years of dealing with exhausting traveling and over-priced train tickets.

            Both of them were miserable after that, and, seeing her two best friends this wretched and unhappy, was what inspired Marinette to plan a trip to Amsterdam for all three of them.

            The power couple was thus destined to make up in the City of Freedom, when they both had to put their differences apart to keep an eye on potted Marinette. Alas, it was what rendered the moment of separation even more heartbreaking: while Nino and Marinette remained in Paris, Alya had to go back to Aix. But fear not, for, this time, the fierce twenty-year-old that she was had a plan: one way or another, she was going to make it back to the capital.

            So, while she was studying, she tried to take as many writing jobs as humanly possible to build up a C.V. so impressive and remarkable that newspaper and magazine agencies all over Paris would be in no position to disdain.

            It was a bust, to no avail, but she was still determined.

            After graduation, she managed to pull on some strings and got a job as a copy editor in the locals of _Femme Actuelle_ where she worked for two years. It wasn’t her dream job, but, at least, she was back in Paris, just in time for Nino’s graduation.

            From then on, the worm has turned and, for the first time, things were finally lining up for young tenacious Alya Césaire. From copy editor, she became first assistant editor, and began investing the money in a small, cozy apartment in the eighth district, then scored a three-month-long internship at _L’Obs_ , where she met Francis, her current supervisor.

            With everything looking so bright on her side, she managed to convince Nino to quit his job as a manager and follow his dreams. This was when the freshly graduated businessman spent all of his savings and bought an old pub that had burnt down in the 70s and that nobody seemed to want.

            It took a whole year to renovate the _Nargiz_ , two more months to obtain a liquor license, and it was when Nino couldn’t afford rent anymore, that they finally came to the realization that not living together was plainly stupid and decided to move in into Alya’s apartment.

            Now, with Nino’s settling, some changes needed to be made in order to maximize their comfort. Like, for example, the purchase of the tremendous waterbed that stood right in the middle of their shared bedroom, and on which Nino carefully laid her, leaving gentle kisses all across her neck and bare chest, when someone cleared their throat beside them, making them jolt in surprise.

            “Oh my God!” Alya exclaimed, somewhere between thorough enthusiasm and revolt, when she saw Ladybug leaning back against her open window. As she struggled to get back up, quickly picking up Nino’s t-shirt on the ground and passing it over her head, she stared at her idol in complete awe, still, after all these years, unable to get used to her going through her apartment windows, basically appearing out of thin air, and asking for help. “L-Ladybug! What are you doing here?”

            Ladybug let out a deep sigh and shot them both an apologetic look, for she knew just how much Nino hated being unsure of Alya’s whereabouts during akuma attacks. “The akuma is a bit out of control. I have a plan, but I need Rena Rouge,” she briefly explained, as Alya turned mechanically towards her boyfriend to catch a glimpse of his expression.

            The latter frowned, teeth gritting, but he well knew that he couldn’t stop his girlfriend from slipping on the fox ears. “Y-yeah– _Uh_ … I g-guess…” he stammered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll just stay here then, ‘nd follow the news on T.V.”

            Ladybug tried to smile to reassure him. “I won’t let anything happen to her, I promise,” she swore, as she handed the familiar black jewelry box to her best friend. “We need to hurry, though. Cat Noir is alone with Strongarm.”

 

***

 

Like every other akuma, this one’s identity was cautiously hidden behind a mask. He was wearing a tight white and blue singlet that left very little to the imagination and, although it was clear his voice hasn’t yet gone through puberty, he looked like a middle-aged bodybuilder on steroids– He had so many muscles, it appeared as if he didn’t have a neck.

            “Not looking so good now, are we, Charlie?” he cackled meanly. “How does it feel to be afraid? How does it feel to be vulnerable and weak? Tell me, how does it feel to be aware of your frailty?”

            “Hey, ugly!” Cat Noir called out, appearing out of nowhere all of the sudden, hitting the akuma with a perfect dispatch of his stick that sent him flying a couple feet away. “Making fun of someone you’re angry with is just childish! Be an adult! Hit them with your car!” he went on playfully, picking up his weapon as he trotted towards his opponent, a sly grin on his face.

            “If you think it’ll be more effective,” the akuma fired back, jumping on his feet and running to the first car he saw. He picked it up easily, and Cat Noir almost shit his pants, before Strongarm threw it in his bully’s direction.

            The latter screamed, and Cat Noir panicked, before throwing his stick blindly, hoping for a miracle. When he opened his eyes again, miracle wore a red-latex costume scattered with black polka-dots. “Get outta here!” Ladybug cried, holding on to the car with her yo-yo.

            Charlie didn’t need a second reminder and quickly got to his feet, disappearing somewhere between the buildings. Strongarm let out a high-pitched scream before running after him.

            Ladybug let go of the car, then shot Cat Noir an angry look. “Stop toying with him! If anything touches the illusion, it’s gonna fade away, and he’ll know we’re onto him!” she scolded him.

            “Come on, don’t blame it all on me, M’Lady!” he jeered, before picking up his stick at his feet. “Everyone knows that cats love to torment their prey for fun, before eating it.”

            “You are not a real cat!” she hissed, and Cat Noir couldn’t but laugh at how easily she got irritated. “You’re wasting time. Who knows for how long will Rena be able to pull this up!”

            “Don’t worry about me,” the latter assured them, as she fell from the sky and landed right between her two teammates. “I’ve brought a handful of candy corn with me, just in case. I’ve been stocking them in my kitchen cupboards ever since the day I was chosen. Trixx will be fine.”

            Cat Noir couldn’t help a wide, crafty smile. “See? No need to be such a killjoy, M’Lady. We can defeat akumas, all while still having a little fun.”

            “Whatever,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at him, but his giggles seemed to be uncontrollable.

            “Now let’s get his fine abs trapped!” Rena Rouge exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air.

            Cat Noir shot her a jaded look. “Abs? Really? Among all the parts of our bodies…!” he started, a little too keen to be taken seriously, “and I’m talking about shoulders, arms, torsos…” he began listing, gesturing to each branch of his chiseled frame, “why do you girls always go for _the_ one that is the hardest to stem?” he complained, as Ladybug let out an umpteenth exhausted sigh.

            “Are you kidding?” the fox girl shot back, crying tears of laughter. “Guys that build up muscles this large are often trying to compensate for their teeny tiny foot size…” she tried to comfort him, giving him a friendly shoulder squeeze that would’ve probably driven Ladybug mad, if the latter didn’t know that Alya was head over heels in love with Nino.

            “Does foot size really matter?” Cat Noir curiously asked, scratching the back of his head.

            “Yes!” Rena Rouge replied, as Ladybug quickly let out an exasperated, but very reassuring, “No!”

            Rena Rouge shrugged. “I guess if you know how to use it… Then you don’t need a big one,” she rectified, her hands on her hips. “But just to be on the safe side…”

            “Can we stop wasting time, please?” Ladybug cut her off, her cheeks, as red as her suit. “Besides, the kid is ten. We shouldn’t be talking about him like this.”

            “He doesn’t look ten,” Rena replied, waggling her eyebrows. “Come on! Where’s the harm? It’s just sex… Besides, the city is on complete lock-down– No one will be getting hurt any time soon,” she went on, just as her necklace began to beep urgently.

            “You were saying?” Ladybug remarked with slid eyes.

            Rena Rouge smiled widely, showing nearly all of her teeth. “Uh, yeah… I’ll be back in a sec,” she promised, before taking off.

            “Guess it’s just you and me, then, M’Lady,” Cat Noir let out with a flirtatious wink that made her blush.

            “Yeah, it seems so…” she replied, a little uneasy.

            “Why alter an A-team, right?” he carried on, holding up a fist in her direction.

            She looked down at it, and froze. “Shouldn’t we leave that to when we actually _defeat_ the akuma?” she tried to say, in the most relaxed way possible.

            Cat Noir scoffed but still put his hand away. “Afraid to jinx it?”

            _Afraid to touch you_ , she almost told him, but she bit down the words just in time. “Yeah…” she lied, looking away.

            “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. Rena’s basically the shitniz when it comes to building perfect illusions.”

 

***

 

After a little more than an hour of fighting, Ladybug and Cat Noir both had to take a five-minute break to feed their kwamis, whereas Rena Rouge was already at her sixth transformation.

            “I’m out of candy corn,” she warned them, shouting over the howling wind around them, as they all ran across the centuries-old rooftops. “You better make it quick.”

            “We’re almost there!” Ladybug yelled back, taking the lead as always.

            The _Conciergerie_ was right on the other side of the Seine, and the image of Charlie was slowly, but surely, guiding Strongarm right to it.

            “We haven’t even located the akuma yet!” Cat Noir reminded them, before plunging into the void to keep Strongarm from getting to his prey.

            He either wasn’t careful enough, or Strongarm has gotten way sturdier, in the past hour. He brushed off Cat Noir’s hits like they were nothing, and was even able to predict his movements, sending him flying around more than once– Ladybug and he have never fought an akuma that skilled before, tussling like a trained soldier, and moving with the anger and rage of a mercenary.

            “This guy’s not ten!” Rena Rouge cried out, when Cat Noir was thrown right into a street light, bending it over like it was some kind of melted plastic.

            “The akumas’ strength is often multiplied to be able to measure to our own,” Ladybug explained. “But I think this one’s power is to be the perfect opponent.”

            “What in the Hell does _that_ mean?”

            Ladybug’s legs came to a halt and she looked down the street to find her partner struggle. “It means that he studies us and quickly takes in the way we fight as well as the way we move, altering his own actions to always keep the upper hand. It’s the base of all wrestling matches, really,” she laid out, her hands on her hips, as Rena Rouge finally caught up to her.

            “How do you know so much about wrestling?”

            “My Dad’s into that kind of stuff,” she answered swiftly, before shooting her teammate a meaningful look, and jumping off the rooftop.

            The fox girl nodded, doubled her pace, stretched out her cape and began flying over the buildings, mentally instructing her illusion to speed the fuck up, as her necklace sent out its first beep.

            “We only need to put our hand on his akuma to win!” Ladybug exclaimed, wrapping her yo-yo around Strongarm’s legs to make him fall over, as Charlie escaped somewhere between the shadows of darkish alleys.

            “Okay, but where is that damned thing?” Cat Noir asked genuinely, as he threw his stick right into the akuma’s face to keep him from putting his hands on Ladybug. “It literally could be anywhere! I don’t know you, but I’m not really eager to the idea of stripping him off his onesie.”

            “It’s a singlet,” she rectified mechanically, before a Eurêka! lit up her eyes. “Oh my God, yes! That’s _it_!” she cried out, jumping on Strongarm’s shoulders to make him lose balance.

            “You… want to strip him off his singlet?”

            Cat Noir’s question was so unexpected, she was the one ending up losing balance, and falling, while Strongarm let out an awful laugh, before running after Charlie. He hasn’t, not once, made an attempt to get their Miraculouses, and Ladybug and Cat Noir were slowly beginning to wonder if, in fact, getting the akuma away from Hawk Moth’s grip would make him loosen his control over him.

            “What? No!” she groaned, rubbing her forehead, as she slowly got to her feet– Cat Noir was immediately at her side, helping her stand up, for he had witnessed the terrifying fall that was maybe just beginning to weaken her. “But it could be in his headgear?” she suggested, refusing his helping hand with nonetheless extreme politeness- He didn't exactly took it all that well. “During a wrestling match, wrestlers put on their headgear right before entering the ring. That’s how they indicate that they are, in fact, going into battle… Maybe that’s what’s giving him his powers?”

            “How does your brain even work for you to always come up to this kind of conclusions?”

            Ladybug half-smiled and shrugged. “Call it a feminine intuition.”

            Cat Noir sneered. “Well, your feminine intuitions often suck, need I to remind you? I want solid proof this time before throwing myself at him and cataclysm-ing his headgear– I don’t want the same uh... complications as the other night's to come right back at me to bite me in the ass, thank you very much.”

            As he spoke the words, Ladybug found herself desperately looking for a sneer, or a smirk, or _anything_ , to indicate to her that he wasn’t being serious. But there was no smile, only dead earnest green eyes, staring at her, scattering holes all throughout her body. “Cat Noir, I’m _so_ sorry…”

            “Save it,” he dryly cut her off, making her heart ache. He turned away, reaching for his stick, and was about to go after Charlie and Strongarm, before he finally decided to face her, and tell her just what exactly he wanted to say. “People say they’re sorry all the time. Example: I’m _sorry_ to tell you that your stupid Dark Cupid excuse was straight-up bullshit. Would it have really killed you to kiss me?” he asked, and her face went white. “You’re either lying to me, or you’re lying to yourself, LB.”

            “So, what? You’re mad at me, now?” she challenged him, suddenly finding God-knows-where the courage to stand up to him.

            He pressed his lips together in a ridiculous, shit-eating smirk and shook his head. “I’m not mad at you for the kiss– Or rather non-kiss. That would just be childish.” He took a step forward, instinctively making her back away. “I’m mad at you because you’re always so damn confusing all the time… sending all kind of mixed messages because you’re simply unable to sort out your own crap.” He paused, while she fought to keep her tears hidden. “I’m mad at you because you brought me into all this shit, and now, I don’t know if you can see it, but I’m kinda trapped in it, too.”

            “Okay, fine!” she burst out. “I’m– I– I am sorry I brought you into this…”

            “Didn’t you hear me when I told you what I thought about people saying they’re sorry all the time?” he accused her, something like fire burning up his cat-like pupils.

            “What do you want me to say, then, huh? You’re kinda leaving me out of options!”

            He took in a deep breath to steady himself, and she ought to do the same. Cat Noir wasn't exactly the kind of person that could bottle up his emotions that easily, hence his little outbreak, but this was definitely not the time for this. “You know, the secret to a good and healthy relationship is communication,” he replied, a little calmer. “That’s even the number one advice given during couple’s counseling.”

            “We are not a couple,” she felt necessary to remind him.

            He shot her a flirty beam full of innuendos. “Yet.”

            She rolled her eyes at him, but did not correct him– He took pride in it and winked at her, enjoying way too much his new found ability to make her blush that easily.

            “Hey, Whiskers! Red Beetle!” Rena Rouge shouted from where she stood, at the top of the Saint-Sulpice Church’s bell tower. “I'm down to five minutes, so move it!” she yelled again, and she was instantly joined by her teammates. “We need another plan, I’ll de-transform soon, and I don’t have backups…”

            “Oh, I see the urgency of the situation,” Cat Noir remarked. “We’re quickly heading towards a cat-astrophe,” he tried to joke to let Ladybug know that overthinking his little tantrum from earlier now of all times wasn’t exactly preferable– Rena Rouge was, however, the only to laugh.

            “Can you cut down the cat puns? I need to concentrate,” she told him, hating the fact that she was the only one to capture the gravity of what Rena Rouge’s Miraculous’ beeps meant.

            “Yeah… ‘Totally get you, M’Lady. I, too, hate cat puns,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head in frenetic manner. “ _Just_  kitten– They’re _hiss_ -terical,” he tried again, but all he got was an eye roll and a frown. “I should start a t-shirt line,” he then let out, seeming to seriously ponder on the idea.

            “O.M.G., I’d so totally be a customer!” Rena Rouge replied, clapping her hands together in a sudden excitement.

            “I would call it um… Oh, I know! How about: _Stay_ paw- _sitive_ ,” he thought out loud, a crafty look on his face.

            “ _Oooh_ , _cat_ -chy,” the fox girl whistled, as Ladybug shot her an angry look as well.

            “We’re not changing the plan. You’re still getting Charlie to the _Conciergerie_ ,” she told her, and Rena Rouge straightened and nodded frenziedly, suddenly dead-serious. Ladybug then turned to her oldest partner. “Cat Noir, you just distract him as much as you can. _I_ ’ll dive in to get the headgear,” she instructed him, and he felt bad, now, about throwing the Whisper-incident in her face– He was the one to suggest destroying the akuma’s quiver, after all.

            “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied nonetheless, before taking off.

            “Your necklace’s energy is wearing off faster and faster each time you de-transform. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Ladybug asked Rena Rouge, as the fox girl was about to spread her cape and fly again.

            “Are you kidding? I’m _only_ having the time of my life!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'll Come Crashing, A Giant Dog](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zC6BfR5q_Eg)


	8. Say Amen

The sun was fading away behind the Eiffel Tower, while red, orange, and yellow dripped over her shoulders, as she sat, placid, at the top of the castle’s keep tower.

            Her gaze was lost somewhere along the urban landscape, the soft melody of her flute gradually blocking the sound of the water beneath her. Sometimes, she would hear Ladybug’s yelps or Cat Noir’s groans from down below, and flinch, before remembering that her kwami was seriously beginning to tire up.

            She tried to shut out everything around her– The sky and the city, the akuma, the incessant chiming of her necklace– and summoned two other silhouettes that slipped out of the shadows and guided Charlie to the heart of their sanctuary. The scene was complicated to draw, she had to admit: she had to bend the light to her advantage and blend her illusion to reality to create perfect, full 3-D figures.

            Strongarm recognized the two other boys immediately and was about to go after them, when a voice screamed inside his head, forcing him to pursue his fight with Ladybug and Cat Noir.

            “I don’t want to fight them! They’re wasting my time!” he yelled, his hands on his ears. “I just want to go after Charlie! I want to make him pay!”

            Ladybug and Cat Noir stood still, exchanging curious glances, but their weapons were ready in case he tried to attack them again.

            “Of course, it’s him! I’d recognize his face anywhere!” he shouted again, as he turned his back to the two superheroes. “I’ll get you your stupid Miraculouses, if you _SHUT UP_! It’s _my_ turn to be terrorizing and their turn to be afraid!”

            “Was he just…?” Ladybug started, wide eyes glued to Strongarm storming into the _Conciergerie_ _._

            “I think so...”

            “Should we…?”

            “Uh, yeah,” he snorted before they both went after their opponent.

            Although Cat Noir was born and raised in Paris, he had never, not once, visited the _Conciergerie_. He still knew all about it, of course– As Adrien, Cat Noir knew the History of France better than anyone else.

            The _Conciergerie_ was especially renowned for being a penitentiary for high-value prisoners, only. It was where infamous Queen Marie-Antoinette died of imprisonment after King Louis XVI’s beheading, after all.

            During the _Reign of Terror_ of the 18 th hundreds, however, the _Conciergerie_ housed over 2,700 people, who were all then executed by _guillotine_. Depending on their wealth, they could afford a bed and food, but only celebrity prisoners were assigned cells to themselves. The other inmates were usually stuffed into a single room, waiting for their trial, and the latter could take varying randomly between a couple days, weeks, or months, to be initiated.

            Today, Marie-Antoinette’s cell had been converted into a chapel dedicated to her memory, and still, a large part of the castle’s interiors was closed to the public, for it was still in use by the capital’s law courts.

            “I’ll take the left!” Ladybug shouted, when their path split into two different hallways.

            She didn’t wait for him to answer and was already running down the dim corridor. For a second, he hoped both hallways led to the same place– He didn’t want her to take on Strongarm alone, because he well knew that she was more than capable of pulling a stunt like that, if she ever was to find him first– The two of them had barely managed to defeat him earlier… And God knew he hated knowing her in danger.

            He hesitated before taking his right– He wanted to go after her. He couldn’t bear it when they went separate ways during an akuma attack. It left him tense and worried about her all the time. But, as their years of partnership came to show over time, she was good at coming up with plans and giving orders, and he was good at obeying them. So he sighed, and did what did best. He obeyed.

            Cat Noir has studied many things about France but had never had the time to visit anything– He often found himself at the Louvre, one of Paris’ most cherished historical monuments, for a fashion show or an akuma attack, but his duties towards the runway and the city always kept him from taking a look at the paintings.

            One time, he remembered, he was just seventeen, he was called for a photo-shoot in the middle of the Tuileries gardens. When everyone settled for a short twenty-minute break, he carefully slipped under Nathalie’s nose and hid inside the _Orangerie_ Museum, a couple blocks away. Entrance was free for underage students and invisible cat-shaped kwamis. He recalled spending the whole day gazing at Monet’s _Water Lilies_ , while the whole crew was out looking for him. Two hundred and fifty canvases, and two hundred and fifty different ways of turning a pond into a masterpiece.

            Adrien always liked Art, and History. He liked learning, in general, knowing things. Even though he was two years younger than his brother, they both obtained their high school diplomas the same year. When it was time to go to university, Adrien, against all odds, applied for a Bachelor in Physics at the Pierre-and-Marie-Curie University and was instantly accepted.

            At just about eighteen years old, he owned a diploma in Theoretical Physics and was already applying for a couple of Master’s Programs he was interested in. He signed his doctoral thesis at twenty-two years old, being the genius that he was, but never really got to use it– His father wouldn’t hear any of it. Adrien was the face of _Agreste Designs_ – He had responsibilities to attend to. He couldn’t waste his time teaching or doing research.

            His steps came to a halt when he almost crashed into a wall that he was sure has appeared out of nowhere. With a swift hand gesture, he unhooked his stick from his belt to call Ladybug.

            “Y-yeah?” She was panting. Sometimes, he found himself wishing to hear her panting for reasons other than running after slash from akumas.

            He shook his head to lose the thought– Now was not the time. “It’s a dead end,” he told her instead.

            “Shit, me too.”

            “Did we miss a turn?”

            “Oh, no, wait– There are stairs!” she called out and Cat Noir was sure he had just lost all of her attention. “Do you think that’s where Strongarm went?”

            “Wait! Ladybug! Don’t go there–“ he started, before he was brashly interrupted by the beeps of the end call. “ _Alone_ ,” he grumbled under his breath before sprinting to the other end of the hall.

 

Ever since Hawk Moth’s dark wings deployed over their beloved city, over three hundred akumas have come to existence.

            If Ladybug closed her eyes and concentrated enough, she would be able to trot out the name and powers of each one them.

            There were some akumas, of course, that she just couldn’t forget. The obvious ones were Dark Owl and Troublemaker, who came very close to defeating her and Cat Noir. There was also Dark Cupid, who drove her to kiss her partner for the first time. The Sapotis, who pushed her to give the Fox Miraculous to her best friend Alya.

            She surely couldn’t overlook her fight with The Enchantress, six months ago, that left her seriously injured, or the one with Whisper, that ultimately led her to confess her feelings to Cat Noir. And now, climbing his way up to the top ten worst super-akumas she had to battle, was Strongarm, who was seriously beginning to get on her last nerve.

            “How are you any better, if you do to them what they do to you?” Ladybug squawked, just when the akuma was snatching off the door to Marie-Antoinette’s cell.

            He stopped suddenly, turned on his heels to face her, an ugly, terrifying look on his face, and Ladybug immediately realized how big he really was, a giant, no less, that could easily crush her under his thumb. She swallowed hard and took a couple steps backward, her yo-yo, hanging idly on her fingers, as if she couldn’t figure out a way to use it.

            “I don’t want to be better,” he said coldly. “I just want revenge.”

            There was anger in his voice, a burn she knew all too well.

            Revenge.

            It had a sweet sound to it. She still remembered spending hours, in her bed, spelling this word over and over in her head, imagining a thousand different scenarios in which Chloe Bourgeois would finally feel as humiliated, as small, as her.

            Lying there under the covers, unable to go to sleep, allowing her insomnia to haunt her mind and whisper witty comebacks she wished she could have come up with earlier. She dreamt awake, paralyzed by the shadows that crept into her room, forcing her to relive distressing moments she thought were behind her forever.

            Sometimes, they would compel her to believe that she did it, that she finally found the courage to stand up for herself, that she finally found the means to put Chloe back in her place, right before waking her up in the middle of the night, dragging her back to reality. She could never go back to sleep after that, and would end up tiptoeing into her parents' room and sneaking into her mother’s arms just to be able to get some rest. But that was a time before she even knew that kwamis and akumas existed, before she became a superhero.

            “The best revenge is a life well-lived,” she tried to convince him, recalling Tikki’s reassuring words. “Beating them up now won’t do you any good… Believe _me_.”

            “Then what good does picking on me do _them_?” he spat.

            “They’re just jealous… and broken. Don’t let them get into you,” she rationalized.

            “Too late.”

            He walked into the cell and instantly the distraught shrieks of the kids pierced the air– They weren’t real, Ladybug kept telling herself. The real kids are safe and with their parents. It’s just an illusion. It wasn’t real. “Stop! _Please_ , you can get past that!” She didn’t know what went into her when she spoke these words, trying to get an akuma of all people to listen to reason– Akumas were driven by negative emotions, wrath, sorrow, despair… Hawk Moth infiltrated his victims’ brains and sucked out all hope and light and lucidity.

            Strongarm clutched Marie-Antoinette’s head and broke the statue’s neck, making the kids scream even louder, but, as he was about to throw it at them, Ladybug grabbed his wrist with both hands and sought to draw him away. It was no doubt a very foolish move as he easily took advantage of it and hurled her into the wall.

            Something broke, Ladybug realized with horror, when she heard a crack as her back violently hit the concrete. She tried to move but Strongarm seized her by the shoulders to press her down.

            “You’re annoying, you know that? Trying to get me to do the right thing,” he jeered. “Being nice is overrated– I try to be nice all the time… Look where it got me.” He paused to stare at her, an evil smirk on his face, as she struggled out of his grip, but he pushed her to the ground even harder. “I’m still going to find Charlie and the others, but before, let me take your Miraculouses. I know a certain butterfly who would be more than pleased to have them,” he said, as his fingertips brushed over her earrings.

            Ladybug jerked her head away but even she knew it was no use at this point. “Wait– Please, you don’t want to do that!”

            Her plea was lost somewhere in the chaos and, as she forced her eyes shut, unable to witness her own defeat, she let her mind wander. Was that it? Was this how the great Ladybug will be brought to her downfall?

            Was this how she lost?

            Was Hawk Moth destined to win all along?

            Where did she fault?

            “ _Cataclysm_!” yelled a familiar voice above them, right before Strongarm’s headgear shattered to ashes.

            Ladybug could breathe again, as the imposing monster began to shrink and a dark purple butterfly flapped its wings in a circle, desperate to find an exit before getting caught.

            Cat Noir helped her up immediately and she wasted no time in capturing and purifying the akuma, before calling upon her regenerative powers. Her bones were intact, thanks to Tikki, and the fissured wall was an easy fix.

            “Are you okay?” Cat Noir spoke in a low voice, biting on the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from shouting at her. She had been so stupid, so fucking stupid and reckless, and hasty, and irresponsible. _He_ was supposed to be the careless one. _He_ was supposed to be the absentminded idiot who threw himself in danger and spontaneously came up with thoughtless plans. They worked because she was always alert and prudent, and he was the sloppy moron who was good at distracting the villains. _She_ was supposed to be the smart one. _She_ was supposed to be the savior.

            “I’m fine.”

            He wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill her for putting herself in danger and he wanted to kill her for acting so normal about it.

            While the little boy was curled up in a corner, Rena’s illusions began to fade away. Ladybug walked towards him, her steps, echoing in the silence, and crouched in front of him. “Hey,” she said in a whisper, as he slowly straightened up to stare back at her. His eyes were wide and black and full of tears.

            “I’m… I’m sorry. I– I didn’t mean to,” he sobbed.

            “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt anyone,” she reassured him, gently resting a hand on his skinny shoulder. “Have you– Have you ever talked to your parents or your teacher about what’s been happening to you?”

            “I may be small… But I’m no snitch,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “’ _Snitches are bitches who belong in the ditches_.’”

            “Is this what they say to you?” The boy nodded. “Well, let me tell you that _I_ found that, sometimes, being a snitch was highly effective. If telling your parents and teacher about all of this will make them stop, then you should do it. Take it from personal experience.”

            “But then… no one would want to be friends with me!”

            “Their loss,” Ladybug guaranteed, bolstering his confidence with a wide smile. “You see, sometimes, it’s true that you need to be strong enough to stand alone. But you also need to be smart enough to know when you need help, and brave enough to ask for it. Look at me: Hawk Moth would’ve gotten my Miraculouses years ago, if it weren’t for Cat Noir and Rena Rouge,” she added, glancing back at her partner behind her, who was silently watching the exchange.

            The boy didn’t know how to respond to that so he just leaned over and hugged her. Ladybug couldn’t hide her surprise but didn’t waste time wrapping her arms around the little kid’s body.

            “Let’s get you home, now, shall we?” she crooned, picking him up as she got to her feet.

            “Okay.” He buried his face in her neck and listened to the calm humming of her heart as she carried him over Paris’ rooftops, then home.

 

***

 

“You did really well today, Rena. It was… really impressive,” Ladybug finally broke the silence as the three of them settled on a random rooftop, while the safety bell was ringing in the distance.

            “Oh, it was nothing. I was just lucky you still had those chocolate bars in your purse, or I would have been _done_ …” Rena Rouge replied, waving off the compliment, but her blush was visible from miles away. “I told you I was born to do this!”

            “Yeah, speaking of… What do you think about joining the team… _permanently_?”

            Rena Rouge almost choked on her tongue. “W-what? Like… for real?”

            Ladybug nodded. “I was talking with Fu the other day and… He said he was thinking about officially making you the Fox Miraculous holder,” she explained, before turning to Cat Noir, “what do you think about it?”

            “I think it’s a great idea. We have a good team dynamic and you’re fun. I like working with you. Plus, with you around more often, I’ll have at least _someone_ to laugh at my jokes,” he added with a wink that made Ladybug very uncomfortable.

            “I’ll… definitely think about it,” Rena promised, as her Miraculous began to chime for the umpteenth time today.

            “Well, time to go home, it seems,” Ladybug remarked, as she and Rena Rouge readied themselves to jump off the roof.

            “Wait! Ladybug!” Cat Noir called out, mechanically reaching for her wrist to keep her from fleeing. Despite Rena Rouge’s necklace’s furious beeps, he could still hear her sighing, as she slowly spun around to face him. She couldn’t hold his gaze, so her eyes just stared at the ground, and she looked so sad and small all of a sudden, the sight almost made him forget what he wanted to say. “I was hoping we could uh… talk.”

            _There it is_.

            “I can’t,” she replied nervously, but she spoke way too fast for it to seem natural. “I uh…” She looked away, looked around, and, as panic slowly began to take over her, she found herself praying for a miracle. She wasn’t ready; she couldn’t face him– Not now. She wasn’t prepared… _She wasn’t prepared_. “Rena…,” she whispered, as she turned towards her newest teammate. “I have to get her home.”

            “You two talk,” the latter advised them. “I know my way home. Besides… You both look like you need it…”

            “But how are you gonna give me back the necklace?” Ladybug queried. It sounded like a cry for help; her voice was too sharp and keen, her eyes were round in fear, and her entire form stood on two very unsteady legs.

            Rena Rouge decided to ignore the signs, certain that she was doing her teammates a favor. “I’ll hold on it… For now,” she replied, a sly grin on her lips. “See ya, Red. Later, Simba!” she waved them off, before disappearing somewhere between Paris blue-gray tiles.

            Ladybug’s body tensed at once, as she kept reminding herself to breathe in and out, when Cat Noir finally let go of her. A second of silence elapsed, in her mind, like two hours of soundless screeching, before she fronted him with dilated nostrils and unwavering eyes.

            His touch did horrible things to her, sucking out all her confidence, and leaving her exposed, and wobbly– He couldn’t know that– Not yet, at least. So, until then, it was fake it ‘till you make it. “I can’t stay long,” she said, and it took every last drop of energy that was left in her to keep her voice calm and serene. “My transformation will wear off soon.”

            “Well, I just used my Cataclysm,” he reminded her. “So I only have a dozen minutes left. I would ask you to meet up later tonight, but uh… I’m pretty sure that if I do, you’ll figure out a reason to stand me up.”

            The accusation hurt. Not because it was mean, but because Ladybug knew that she would be perfectly capable of pulling a stunt like that. “Ouch.”

            Cat Noir let his gaze drop. “Yeah… Well, am I wrong?” he asked, but she remained quiet. He shrugged. “Didn’t think so.”

            “You uh… You wanted to… talk?” she tried, desperate to change the subject.

            “Actually, I just want an explanation. About the other night… You said– You said you loved me… And yet, you still don’t want to be with me.”

            “We’re superheroes, Cat Noir,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “We don’t have time to waste with this kind of trivialities… We have a duty towards the people of this city.”

            He frowned. _Fuck this city, and fuck them, people_ , he wanted to say, to shout, but he took in a deep breath, and bit down his anger. “I’m uh… sorry that you… Feel this way, Ladybug, but um… It’s kinda important to me. I really would like some clarifications,” he demanded, more persistent, this time.

            Tears were flowing up her eyes, so she had to turn away to hide them. “Sometimes, we ask questions we don’t want answered,” she whispered softly, palming her throat to keep her voice from shaking.

            “Try me.”

            “Cat Noir…”

            “Ladybug,” he immediately cut her off, and his hands were on her shoulders now, and he was talking in her ear, and she was weak, suddenly, unable to suppress the sob that split her in half as it crossed the barrier of her lips. She would’ve fallen, face front, if he wasn’t holding her. “I never lied to you about my feelings… I love you. _You_ love me– You said so yourself. It seems so _simple_ , yet… I just… I don’t understand how you found a way to _complicate_ it…” he chortled out, but his laugh sounded hollow and empty. Wrong.

            At those words, Ladybug’s mind went ballistic.

            Instantly, her head snapped back at him, as she dryly pushed him off her. “It’s just _so_ easy for you, isn’t it?” she yelled, her cheeks blackened, poking his chest with an accusatory finger. “One day, you _just_ woke to find that _damned_ little black box waiting for you on your nightstand, just _eager_ for you to open it and you…” Her voice broke off, when her eyes met those of her partner, who was looking at her, confused, and sad, and she almost stopped talking. But the words were out, now, and others were creeping up her throat, stinging like acid, and she just couldn’t hold them down. “You embraced black leather and cat eyes like it was _nothing_ ,” she went on, a (little) calmer. “Like you were born to be a superhero… Like you were born to be _freaking_ Cat Noir,” she reproached him, forcing herself to take at least two steps back. Her airways opened up immediately after that and her lungs began ventilating again.

            “Ladybug…“ he tried to say, but she still wasn’t finished.

            “Did you ever have second thoughts about all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the air around them, their costumes, their masks… The city they fought so hard to protect… This role, they were ultimately forced to endorse. This life, this grueling life, that was so cruelly laid upon them. Her blood was fast, ramming in her ears, stirring her heart, and anger glowed in her tired eyes. “ _DID YOU_?” she asked again, roaring, demanding an answer that Cat Noir was suddenly too stunned to give.

            He tried his best to shake away the numbness. “N-No…” he had to admit.

            “I did,” she said in a strong voice, and she was looking right at him, her rage, making up for the buoyancy he stole from her. “Do you know what I was like when Master Fu picked me? A _mess_. I was a _fucking_ mess– I– I had two left feet– I was so… _sullenly_ shy… I was– I was _bullied_. A _lot_. I couldn’t do anything right and I was– I still _am_ struggling with anxiety so… Why the _fuck_ should _I_ become a superhero? I was no role model. I was small, scared all the time… I couldn’t even stand for myself! How was I supposed to stand for an _entire_ city?!” she shouted, tears, dripping, unstoppable, and Cat Noir’s skin went cold under his suit. He had two pairs of ears and he still couldn’t believe what she was saying. She wrapped her shaky arms around herself and stared at him with blood-shot eyes and swollen cheeks. “I was ready to give up the earrings,” she confessed in a low voice, and he felt her words like eight horrible punches that punctured his stomach. “The suit maybe allows _you_ to show the world who you really are, but Ladybug…? She’s just a wall I’m hiding behind. When I become her, it’s just… It’s different. It’s not me, though.”

            A whole minute passed by and they were still standing there, staring at each other. She was still crying, unable to stop the flow, while he was slowly chewing on her words.

            The fact that she didn’t leave comforted him a little, but she was waiting for a response, and he didn’t exactly know what to say, or what to do, to console her.

            “I– I have a brother who hates me.”

            He figured it was best to start small.

            Her head jerked up to find his eyes and he took in a sharp breath before carrying on. “My dad barely sees a business project in me and my mom? She uh… she left us, a long time ago.”

            He took a cautious step forward, half-expecting her to back away, and then a couple more when she didn’t.

            “For people like me, degrees are merely an accessory. My parents thought it was a waste of time so I… I never got to go to school… Never really made any friend either… My brother and I, we had a tutor who taught us basically everything we needed to know, so any contact with the exterior world was very limited.” He paused to contemplate just how close they were standing now, a couple inches apart, no less, and he could kiss her if he only tilted his head down a bit. “So when this feisty little cat-thingy _appeared_ out of nowhere, right in front of me, and told me that I could be something else? Something that my parents haven’t planned out for me? Hell yes, I didn’t hesitate,” he said, never once, letting go of her gaze. “It was like a dream come true,” he went on. “You kept the suit, too. What made you?”

            Ladybug’s lips parted but she didn’t speak for another minute. Cat Noir patiently waited.

            “I’m not sure,” she sighed. “Fear?” she attempted, remembering the chaotic terror that raised havoc on the city when Stoneheart took over Paris for the second time. “Adrenaline? Seeing my best friend in danger?” she tried again, as the horrifying image of Alya being crushed under a car crossed her stream of thoughts. She didn’t realize she was staring at the ground until she found herself looking for Cat Noir’s face. “You…” she finally said, recalling his encouraging words when she was on the verge of giving up.

            His interiors went cold and his cheeks reddened. He was speechless for a moment, and Ladybug wondered if telling him had been the right thing to do.

            Next thing she knew, his hands were on her arms again, squeezing her softly, a desperate look on his face. “Then what are you running away from, Ladybug? What is it that makes you doubt my feelings for you? Why can’t you accept the fact that I will _love_ you, no matter what?”

            “ _Because_!” she shrieked, brutally breaking off his embrace, her face, livid. “Because… i-if you came to realize that I… That, in the end, I’m _not_ the person you want to be with, I– It will _destroy_ me.”

            Cat Noir fell silent, as he blinked at her with horror.

            For the first time in six years, Ladybug was standing in front of him crying, _shaking_ , and she seemed so vulnerable. The suit was her armor. If she was ought to take it off, she’d be facing him, naked, with not a thing to protect herself, and he could just crush her, squash her under his boot, like a vulgar insect.

            She couldn’t be made fun of anymore. She couldn’t be mashed again.

            She couldn’t go back to high school. She worked so hard to keep this part of her behind.

            At this very moment, he thought, he could perfectly see himself hunt down every last one of her bullies and cataclysm them out of the solar system.

            “What if you don’t like the person that _I_ am underneath the mask?” he asked in the gentlest way possible, careful, this time, not to touch her. “Have you ever considered that? You are not alone in this, Ladybug.”

            Oh, alone, she never was. Her thoughts would never leave her alone. Sometimes, she found herself shouting ‘SHUT UP!’ at nobody, just to get a break from the constant motion in her brain. Her overthinking poisoned her veins. She often couldn’t sleep at night– The memories were haunting.

            That’s why Marinette was so good at being a designer: she channeled all of that dark energy and created beautiful, unique clothes.

            She wouldn’t go back there. Not for Cat Noir, not for the world.

            She wouldn’t give her mind another mean to sicken her.

            The first beep of her partner’s ring interrupted her thinking. “You need to go,” she warned him, and she wanted to cry, but her eyes already dried out.

            “Are you kidding me? I’m not leaving you like this!”

            “Cat Noir,” she said, in a more threatening voice. “You’re about to change back. You need to leave.”

            “You thought I wasn’t being serious? I’m _not_ leaving, Ladybug,” he replied, and his mouth was spilling venom. “We still have things to talk about.”

            “We’ve talked plenty!” she spat, stomping her foot to the ground.

            “You’re _shaking_ , Ladybug. I can’t leave you like this!” he yelled back, and it was the first time since he’s met her that he was raising his voice at her.

            “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll go.”

            As she turned away, readying her yo-yo to jump off the rooftop, Cat Noir grunted, “Yeah, you have a bad habit of doing that.”

            Ladybug couldn’t stop herself in time and her hand went flying, then crashing against Cat Noir’s cheek in a horrible slapping noise. “Oh my _God_!” she exclaimed, shock painted all over her face, as she intuitively took her partner’s face in her hands, hoping that her caresses will be enough to erase what she had done. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I didn’t mean to! I– I –! Cat Noir! I’m so, _so_ sorry! Please, I–!” she stammered, but he just glared at her with an unreadable expression, shaking her hands off him– At that moment, she could’ve thrown up her own heart.

            Another beep vibrated in the quietness. Ladybug was about to order him to leave again, but the look on his face screwed her mouth shut.

            He was waiting for her to say something. Even now, even after she’d hit him, he refused to leave her looking like this– Like the mess she really was, under the mask.

            “Maybe…,” she hiccupped, and her voice was so small and soft, Cat Noir had to straighten his leather ears to be able to hear her. She took a step back, almost fell off, but steadied her feet just in time, then backed away again, until she reached the wall behind her, and flattened her back all against it. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll hate whoever you are underneath that mask. Maybe I know you, and can’t stand you.”

            The words hurt, but Cat Noir took the hits, like he took her slap, swallowing his pride, his rage, his anger, to take a step forward.

            “Does this really make it any better?” she asked then, looking at him with wide blue eyes. “Don’t you think that it will be worse, knowing that the guy that I’ve been _hopelessly_ in love with for the past _years_ was just… an illusion?” She snorted. “How do we go on from then?”

            Again, he thought, she was pinpointing on him eventually rejecting her. (As if _he_ could reject someone like _her_.) Under the mask, they were but strangers– In her head, at least. And she grew up fearing strangers, unable to trust them, to believe in the good in them. When Cat Noir, her love, will take off his mask, this was exactly what he will be, and it scared her.

            “Well, that’s just insulting,” he replied, as her breath began to quicken. “Do you really think that low of me, M’Lady?” he asked, a teasing grin on his mouth.

            She didn’t how to react, what to say, what to do, so she didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything, watched him, as he came closer, and gasping when she felt his hand on her waist, holding her strongly against the wall.

            “Ladybug,” he whispered, “you are my _best_ friend. You know me better than anyone else in this godforsaken world. With you, I don’t feel… so alone, anymore. And I know you, more than anyone. I’ve fought alongside with the woman behind this mask. I’ve seen the real you. I’ve fallen in love with the _real_ you.”

            She didn’t know she was holding her breath until she had to open her mouth to inhale. He let out a small chuckle, and she blushed. Hard. He leaned in, and she thought he was going to try to kiss her again, but his lips coated the exposed skin her neck, making her shiver.

            “You are… smart,” he went on, against her flushed skin. “You are kind. You are beautiful, inside out. You are creative, a really good fighter, and you care so much, about so many things, it makes me want to care more.” He traced light kisses all over her jaw, stopping at her chin to bite it softly.

            Close enough, he said to himself, as she was desperately trying to look for a mean to _calm the fuck down_.

            “You can be naïve,” he pursued, straightening himself to look at her, and she immediately missed the warmth of his mouth. “And clumsy, and flustered. But you are also funny– When you laugh, it’s like the whole world just stops spinning to hear you. You are brave, you make _me_ want to be brave too. You are a treasure that I made my duty to serve and protect, years ago. Your eyes, they’re full of light, and sunshine, and _good_. This makes you the most precious thing in my life, and I would do anything, _anything_ , to keep you in it.” He paused, took in a sharp breath, and continued, “don’t you understand? You _saved_ me. I’m never letting you go!” he finally let out in a lively chortle.

            They stared at each other in an odd way after that, as if their glances were battling each other, both eager to win a silent argument.

            Cat Noir moved his head closer to Ladybug’s– He’s always done the first move.            

            She sat there, frozen in fear and excitement, as he leaned in, and their foreheads rested against each other. He closed his eyes, and Ladybug couldn’t fight against the thoughts that suddenly went through her– His very smell was flooding her senses now, and her heart was chanting in her ears, deafening her.

            _Just a taste_ , she promised herself, as her lips softly brushed his.

            It wasn’t enough, however, and she wanted to pull away before she completely lost herself, but, at this moment, her body had been seduced, and she could no longer think straight.

            “Ladybug,” he whispered kindly, prolonging each syllable as if to savor her name, before she kissed him again, more fierily, more demanding, pinning him against the wall. He didn’t complain.

            Her hands rested right below his ears, her thumbs, stroking his cheeks, as their breaths mingled. He ran his fingers across her back, grabbing her everywhere, with fierceness and hunger, as every ounce of innocence that still tainted his soul turned into pure, intense passion.

            She pressed her tongue to the seam of his lips, nearly knocking all wind out of his lungs, and, as he granted her access, she delved in, taking _everything_.

            His hand drifted to her hips, slowly striking down her thigh, before he seized her leg to hook it around his waist. She let out a moan that quivered against his teeth and, instantly, he wanted more from her… and she would’ve probably given him it all, if only his ring hadn’t let out a third warning beep, making her jerk away.

            He swore under his breath, and made a mental note to _kill_ Plagg later– The damn cat ate half a dozen _boxes_ of Camembert _a day_. How is it that his energy wore off that quickly?

            “You’re down to two minutes,” she remarked, sloppily swiping off the drool around her mouth with the back of her hand. “You really need to get out of here.”

            “Are we seriously back to this?” he growled, frowning.

            Her leg was still around him, and he blushed as he realized it. She left it there, and pressed herself against him, as he swallowed audibly. “Look, I love you, okay? Just– Just give me time. Please?” she requested, but he was still dazzled by the way she said ‘I love you,’ with such confidence and conviction, as if it couldn’t be more obvious.

            When she kissed him yet another time, his brain literally lit on fire. And, contrarily to the first time, it was now the beep of her earrings that forced them to break it off.

            “You put up a good fight, M’Lady,” he purred, softly patting her cheek. “But, unfortunately for you, I’m here to win.”

            And then, he took off.

            On her way home, Ladybug couldn’t stop smiling.

            _Cat Noir is going to die kissing me_ , she thought, as she landed on her balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Say Amen, Panic! at the Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU1S8dui_5c)


	9. Heaven Knows

Master Fu always served his tea with a tray of freshly baked mooncakes, because he knew that Adrien was particularly fond of the pastry. They usually sat on the ground, across from each other, relishing the hot drinks and food, while Plagg and Wayzz enjoyed each other’s companies in a quiet side of the table. “I heard last night was quite… _eventful_ ,” the old man finally said, his hands on his knees and a narrow smile on his lips.

            Adrien almost spat out a mouthful of his beverage, but refrained last second and forced it down his throat in a very audible gulp. Master Fu’s grin only widened. “I– I’m not… I– H-how do you mean?” he stuttered, pink-cheeked and quickly out of air.

            He was staring at his mentor with round eyes and a very puzzled, very embarrassed face. Did Fu know? What a question. Of course, he did. It was nearly impossible to keep anything from this man– Not that he wanted to keep his kiss with Ladybug a secret, really. It’s just… He still didn’t know where they stood after last night, so he tried not to think too much about it… For now, at least. She said to give her time, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

            “Well, Rena Rouge, of course,” Fu replied, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “She finally made the team, yesterday. Or am I mistaken?”

            The question caught him a little off guard, Adrien had to admit– Rena Rouge wasn’t exactly a subject Fu and he had a habit to discuss. More specifically, if they ever did talk about her, it was never because Fu was the one to initiate it.

            Adrien knew Rena was chosen to be the new Fox Miraculous holder by Ladybug some years ago and that his mentor was growing fond of her, but that was it. The old man always chose to rather focus their conversations on Cat Noir’s well-doing, and his coping with the superhero life, and only mentioned his teammates when he found it necessary. “Well, she said she was going to think about it,” Adrien pointed out. “But I think she’s gonna do it. She loves being a superhero.”

            “Yes, her eagerness is rather refreshing, to say the least,” Fu remarked, taking a bite of cake. “By the way, have you talked to Ladybug, lately?”

            At this moment, Adrien’s disconcerted expression was priceless and Fu had to drown his smirk with tea to keep down a laugh. “L-Ladybug! Ladybug? Have I… Did I talk to her?”

            Fu only nodded, waiting for Adrien’s response.

            The air was too hot suddenly, and his clothes were itching everywhere. His throat was dry when he tried to talk again and even a large sip of his drink couldn’t fix it. “N-no! Nope… Well, I mean, sure, we talk, sometimes but… It’s not like it’s important, anyway– Like, seriously, it’s not worth mentioning. Like, we saw each other yesterday, you know, during the attack, and we talked plenty! About Strongarm, of course… and well, Hawk Moth. We don’t like wasting time talking when an akuma is on the loose. We’re superheroes, after all, we have duties and all… Well, you know how it is, right? I mean… W-what was the question, again?”

            Fu tried to keep a straight face and speak in all seriousness but he just couldn’t help a giggle. “I meant to talk about the book, the both of you have been actively looking for these past couple of weeks,” he told him, a glowing beam on his face, as Adrien began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, immediately very aware of all the layers he was wearing.

            “Oh, right… Yeah– What about it?”

            “Well, as you know, Ladybug has been busying herself with research but she needs your help to access some government records that aren’t displayed on the internet,” Fu explained briefly, as he lightly stroked his beard.

            “My h-help? Yes, of course! I mean… How can I…?”

            The rest of his sentence was lost in the air, as words simply refused to get out, but Fu understood nonetheless. “Well, you know that, in here, you will always be Cat Noir first and foremost, don’t you?”

            Adrien shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

            “Good. But you also are Adrien Agreste, and it’s his help that is needed at this instant.”

            Adrien frowned, a little confused. “Okay…?”

            Fu wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, he was even talking at a slower pace and was being very careful with his words. Was he afraid of appearing tactless? Because, in all honesty, if anyone had to ask Adrien for a favor that his name or wealth could provide, he’d rather them be Ladybug and Master Fu. “I need you to provide us access to these records. Your position in Paris High Society allows you to do so, unlike the ones Ladybug or I occupy,” the latter specified, sliding a closed envelope towards the blond man. “Everything you need to know is in there. Ladybug’s work is quite detailed, too, as you will notice.”

            The ambiance suffered a drastic change after that, instantly switching to a sterner, grimmer mood. Long gone were the old man’s teasing smiles and knowing, glowy eyes.

            _Master Fu was always one for a little drama_ – He liked talking like in the movies, using expressive and lyrical phrases no one other than him would think of, and picturing himself in a black-and-white soap opera. His face could draw a thousand different emotions, trading a lively guffaw for an enraged expression in under ten seconds. This never failed to render all tête-à-têtes with him particularly interesting.

            Adrien didn’t mind, really. In fact, he’d choose a billion overly dramatic Master Fus over the cruel taciturnity of his father’s voice any time.

            “I– I’m sure of it.”

            “The sooner we get access to these records, the better. The Moth Miraculous had been abused now for too long. The Miraculouses were created for good, to provide protection against demons and evil spirits, but, unfortunately, no one has guarded them against the truly wicked, malicious, criminal mind of a man whose only aim is to use them for selfish whims,” Fu went on, a very sad look on his face. “It’s been too long,” he sighed again, “Hawk Moth ran freely for too long.”

            “Not anymore, sir. His days are counted,” Adrien promised dimly, as his mentor forced a smile.

 

***

 

“Ugh… Are you really sure about it, though? Tikki? Oh my _God_! Had my ass always been this _huge_?” Marinette squealed, as wrinkles of utter panic blemished her face.

            She tried to calm down by taking a deep breath but, as she stared more carefully at her reflection, she realized with horror that she had definitely put on some weight since last year. Also, her hips were unquestionably larger than they have been last month, and the smooth curves of her thighs were visibly muzzled by the line of her underwear.

            Pencil skirts weren’t for everyone, after all, she kept repeating to herself. They always stuck to your body in an exaggerated manner, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination. Sometimes, she seriously wondered if every piece of fashion clothing was solely invented for boney women with perfect, well-defined hourglass figures.

            “Marinette, will you stop it, already? That skirt looks perfect on you!” Tikki assured, landing at the top of the mirror that her owner had installed in the middle of her office.

            “You don’t think it too… _red_?”

            Tikki rolled her eyes at her in such an exasperated way, Marinette just had to stick out her tongue at the little goddess. “Just, what exactly are you trying to say, _Ladybug_?” the little red bug tittered.

            The young woman was just about to reply when her office line rang, startling her. “You just got lucky,” she pouted, before walking towards her desk.

            Tikki shrugged. “It’s kinda what I do, you know.”

            Marinette ignored her royally and picked up the phone. “Y-yeah? What is it?”

            Rosalind had been working for Marinette as a saleswoman slash secretary for six whole months, now. She was very sharp and smart, and a well-organized employee whose hard work has really managed to keep this place together. She wasn’t a designer but she loved fashion, and working for the founder of the _Lady Luck_ brand. “ _Marinette, Felix is here to see you_ ,” her very nasal, high-pitched voice informed her, before hanging up immediately.

            Marinette started at those words and took a look at her clock– Felix wasn’t supposed to even _be_ in Paris before at least four hours... Oh well, he probably took an earlier train, then. “Yeah, sure, send him in,” she told Rosalind, only to be answered by the beeps of the end call. She sighed, then quietly instructed Tikki to hide.

            She wasn’t mad at Rosalind. Not really– She knew the poor girl had a lot on her plate, especially since the rhinestone cascade outbreak, a week ago. Magazine agencies, investors, and potential clients were calling non-stop and the phone line had to be kept free at all time so that Marinette wouldn’t miss up on some important opportunities. Her assistant will be even busier once the word about _Lady Luck_ ’s collaboration with _Agreste Designs_ will be out.

            When the door opened a couple minutes later, however, it wasn’t Felix who was standing in the corridor but rather his little brother Adrien.

            “H-hi!” Marinette pained to choke out, as her eyes rounded in surprise. “A-Adrien! W-what are you… Ha, what here are you doing? I mean– What are you uh… _H-here_?” Adrien smiled softly, as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Oh my _God_ , why am I even trying?” she grumbled under her breath before hurrying towards him, closing the distance between them to properly greet the young man– Adrien swore he felt his cheeks burn when they were hit by Marinette’s lips. “The party isn’t until tonight. I wasn’t expecting to see you this early,” she went on, gesturing for him to take a seat, as she closed the door behind him.

            Marinette was wearing a red skirt, matching stilettos, and a lacy black tank top that didn’t do a great job at hiding at her cleavage– He tried to look away, of course, but then, his eyes caught on a golden pendant she had around her neck, and the task seemed then simply impossible to achieve.

            She must’ve noticed it, because she quickly put her blouse back on, before taking place at her desk.

            He couldn’t retain a blush. “Yeah… I-I was in the neighborhood and I came past your boutique,” he said, crisping his hands into fists and looking down, wondering suddenly what exactly has gone through his mind for him to think it was a good idea to disturb Marinette while she was working. “I hope you don’t mind…”

            “No! No, not at all!” she was quick to assure him. “In fact, I’m happy to see you. You seem in a chirpier mood, today,” she remarked, hinting at the way he looked during their last encounter. “How have you been?”

            “Great! Better. Much better, actually. I– What about you? Have you decided about the collaboration with my father?” he asked.

            “Oh, yeah! I actually just finished reading Natalie’s e-mail,” she said, as her head instinctively snapped to her computer screen. “I was going to call on Monday to tell her that I’m _totally_ on board.”

            “Really? That’s awesome!” Adrien exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. “So? What’s this top-secret project Gabriel Agreste needs your help with?”

            Marinette let out a soft sigh, as a dreamy beam glimmered in her eyes. “He wants me to design the fourth peacock dress with him! Can you believe it?” Adrien creased his nose in confusion. “You know, the dresses he specially designs in your mom’s honor, every ten years or so?”

            “I’m s-sorry… My mother’s what now?”

            “Oh, come on… Please don’t tell me that you don’t know about that?” Adrien quickly looked away, as blood furiously rushed to his cheeks.

            Marinette mumbled something under her breath– Adrien was sure to catch Felix’s name somewhere along the irritated mutter– before getting up from her chair and nodding at him to take her place. He hesitated but obeyed nonetheless.

            Her hand instantly grabbed her computer mouth and, as she bent over to look at the tabs she already had opened, Adrien became suddenly very aware of how close her _breasts_ were to his _face_ – He flinched, but kept his eyes locked on the screen and rather focused on the numerous Internet browsers Marinette was silently navigating.

            He took in a deep breath– and stilled when he was stroked by the familiarity of her scent– Vanilla and coffee and white flowers– _Black Opium_ , Yves-Saint-Laurent– 2014 outbreak– Highly addictive– Seductively intoxicating– A pure shot of adrenaline.

            It was Ladybug’s perfume.

            _Come on_ , the rational part of his brain said. _Lots of women wear_ Black Opium _._ _It’s a very popular fragrance–_ Adrien the Fragrance _sells_ _couldn’t even begin to compare_ _–_

            His intrusive thoughts dissolved the instant Marinette clicked on an old picture of his mother posing in a glorious turquoise ruffle dress.

            “The peacock is a symbol of awakening. The rising of a new star,” she said, as Adrien took in the details of the gown, and the fact that his mother was simply _gorgeous_ in this light.

            She was laughing openly– Adrien swore he could almost hear her– her arms, thrown over her head, like she was… having _fun_. Her feet were bare, her hair, blond, and messy, and all over the place, and she looked so carefree, and wild, and cheery, and different from all the portraits that hanged up the walls of the Agreste Mansion.

            He almost didn’t recognize her– he had to take a second look. Her eyes were green and striking, and her cold pearls were nowhere to be seen.

            “Every fashion designer worthy of the name knows the story of how Gabriel Agreste became, well, _Gabriel Agreste_ ,” Marinette went on. “Aspiring designer meets struggling actress, falls in love, and turns her into his muse. He makes her a dress, takes a thousand of pictures, and nearly breaks the fashion world. All the fame and wealth contained in the Agreste name today, comes from this very picture,” she explained, before switching tabs and zooming on another photo of his mother, wearing, this time, a golden peacock-themed dress.

            If the first picture captured a side of his mom that he never saw before, this one portrayed the implacable, sternly beautiful woman he knew had raised him.

            She stood straight, looking right into the lens, her hair pulled into a complicated braided bun, while contouring make-up sharpened the edges of her face. She wasn’t smiling– She hardly ever did.

            “Ten years later, he creates this masterpiece,” Marinette’s voice cut through his thoughts. “ _The Woman in Gold_ , his inspiration.”

            She gave Adrien the time to look before showing him yet another peacock-inspired creation.

            This one, however, wasn’t modeled by his mother. His heart sunk at the realization. “This one is called _Specter_.”

            “He made this one when she left us,” Adrien speculated. “I think… I think I remember that one.”

            Marinette nodded. “The fourth peacock dress is going to be black.”

            “ _Black is the new black_ ,” Adrien stated idly, his eyes, lost on the devastatingly stunning white dress that was modeled by a brassy Emilie Agreste-lookalike.

            “Yeah,” Marinette sighed, before straightening up, to give Adrien some space. She sat on her desk and watched as the young man went back to the first picture she had laid out for him. “Was me telling you a good thing, or would you have preferred to learn about it another way?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

            “I don’t think anyone would’ve told me, if you hadn’t, Marinette,” he told her, extremely serious, as he shifted to look at her. “So, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

            His eyes were a darker green now, but his expression was soft and sincere. “I’m glad, then,” she whispered, laying a friendly hand on his forearm.

            They stared at each other for a couple of minutes after that, before Marinette broke the silence, and asked him about his plans for lunch. “I took the day off, actually,” he said. “Why?”

            “Well, my parents’ bakery is only a couple streets away,” she replied, hopping on the ground and grasping her coat on the coat-hanger next to the window, before slipping it on. “Best salmon and spinach pie in all of Paris. Come on,” she added, a wild smirk on her lips, “my treat.”

 

***

 

Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng’s love story would put Jack and Rose’s to shame.

            The couple has been married for almost twenty-five years now, and has been through everything together, from the very moment they met while in high school, to the complicated life of early adulthood and new jobs, to the fright and excitement of starting their own business in a sinking economy, to the everyday challenge of being a parent. Today, Tom and Sabine represented everything Marinette was looking for in a long-term relationship.

            “Hey, Mom!” Marinette called out, as she pushed the glass door of her parents’ bakery.

            Her mom was behind the counter, waving off a client with a warm smile. When the latter was gone, she hopped down from her stool and went over to her daughter to greet her with a hug.

            Sabine was even smaller than Marinette, her hair, just as black, but her eyes were a mix of dark gray and blue. She wore a short white cheongsam with large white pants and matching sneakers under her ‘ _World's Greatest Mom_ ’ apron. “How are you, Marinette? Oh, I see you’ve brought a friend… Hello! I’m Sabine Cheng, Marinette’s mom. It’s very nice to see you,” she introduced herself, holding out a friendly hand to Adrien.

            “My name’s Adrien,” the latter replied politely, not wasting a second to shake it.

            “It’s a pleasure…! Oh, my dear! What happened to you, Marinette?” Sabine noted with round eyes, gesturing to the stitches on her daughter’s forehead–

            The latter was quick to shrug it off. “I was home pretty late last night, it was already very dark. Went right through an opened cupboard,” she said nonchalantly, and Adrien felt a little bad for not having noticed her injury earlier. “Where’s Dad?” she then wondered, taking a look around the place, in an attempt to change the subject.

            “In the kitchen, working on the Wellbelove’s order,” Sabine let out in an exhausted sigh.

            Her mother’s reaction seemed to amuse Marinette. “What’d they ask for, this time?”

            “A 300 pieces _Croquembouche_ , no less. He’s going crazy, in there,” Sabine said. “He’s been at it since yesterday… I can’t even… Tom!” she cried, placing both hands around her mouth “Your daughter is here! Why don’t you take a break and come say ‘hi’?”

            “I’ll be out in a sec!” Tom’s voice shot back from the back kitchen.

            “So… What brings you here, sweetie?” Sabine asked, turning back to face her daughter.

            “Well, I decided to treat Adrien here for lunch… and was wondering if you still had some salmon and spinach pie left?”

            “Why, yes! Of course! We just took these two beauties out of the oven,” she added, pointing to the hot pies that were displayed behind the bakery’s showcase. “I’ll set you both a table in the back,” Sabine told them, before busying herself with one of the pies and disappearing in the kitchen.

            “Thanks!”

            “Your mom seems nice,” Adrien said.

            “Yeah, the best there is,” Marinette assured him, smiling widely.

            “Where’s my baby girl?” Tom hollered, as he stepped into the bakery, wiping his floury hands on his black ‘ _A+ DAD_ ’ apron, before walking to Marinette to draw her into a bone-crushing hug. Tom was huge, a kind of God-sized giant that made 6.3-feet-tall-Adrien feel small.

            “Well, your ‘baby’ is almost twenty-four now, you know,” Marinette wittily reminded him, before urging him to put her down– He obliged immediately. “Dad, that’s Adrien. He’s Felix’s brother. Adrien this is my father, Tom.”

            “Very pleased to meet you, sir,” Adrien said, taking Tom’s hand in his own and shaking it.

            “Likewise, son. Oh, Marinette! I just remembered!” Tom exclaimed, slapping a hand on his forehead. “Your mom and I were walking around in Montmartre the other day when we saw this really nice top that may… Ugh! Where did I put it? Ah-ha! So? What do you think?” he asked, holding out a tee-shirt he pulled out from under the counter, as Marinette’s face simply lit up with excitement.

            A photograph of a woman’s bare stomach, where had been painted an interrogation point, was printed on the front of the shirt, with the words “ _OU & QUAND?_” written in capitals right above it, recalling one of the best scenes of the young woman’s all-time favorite French movie, _Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain_.

            She didn’t even know those kinds of shirts even existed– or her wardrobe would certainly have consisted of a thousand more of them. “Are you kidding?” she shrieked, as she yanked the tee-shirt out of her father’s hands, way too happy to be able to contain her agitation. “It’s perfect! I love it! It will be my quilt’s best piece!”

            “I’m glad you like it, I remember you were a huge fan of the movie growing up,” Tom chuckled, rubbing a palm on his daughter’s crown.

            “Oh, I still am! This movie is but a masterpiece that–“

            “…tales the adventures of an introvert woman set on a journey of self-discovery,” Tom finished for her, grinning. “Yes, you never lose an opportunity to say it.”

            Marinette couldn’t help a light blush. “Sorry…,” she apologized coyly, before shoving the tee-shirt in her handbag.

            Tom’s smile widened. “It’s really good to see you, Marinette,” he said, resting a warm palm on her shoulder.

            “You too, Dad,” his daughter replied, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

            “Kids? The table’s ready,” Sabine let them know, and she looked like a tiny elf under the gigantic doorframe that separated the bakery from the restaurant area. “You’ll tell me what you think of my pie, won’t you, Adrien?”

            “Of course!”

            There were a few people settled in here, eating delicious club sandwiches or having a late breakfast, as Marinette led him across the newly opened sitting zone of _La Mie Dorée_ _._

            Sabine had set them a table right next to the window. Outside, the sky was gray and the air was cold, people hurried into their homes, shops, or restaurants, anywhere with walls and a roof, really, and avoided terraces and balconies at all costs.

            “So… What was your favorite part?” Adrien said when he realized that a quiet lunch would definitely not suit him.

            “Of the pie?” Marinette asked, a little confused.

            “Of the movie!” Adrien corrected her, laughing.

            “Wait… You’ve seen _Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain_?”

            “Duh! I basically grew up watching movies, you know. I’ve seen more than the average cinema lover. Besides, I’ve always been a fan of Audrey Tautou,” he replied, taking a mouthful of pie. “This pie is delicious, by the way. So… favorite part?”

            Adrien really did have a pretty face, Marinette noticed, as she lifted her head towards him. Besides the fact that his eye color was for the least utterly _gorgeous_ , he also had high cheekbones, a prominent jawline, straight nose, pink lips, very white teeth, and, oh my God, _dimples_. Instantly, she understood why Gabriel Agreste insisted so much for his son to become a model– It would be a shame to keep such a beauty from the people.

            “Marinette?”

            Adrien’s voice hit her like a splash of ice cold water, forcing her back to reality. “I was staring, wasn’t I?” she asked bashfully, looking down.

            “Kind of,” he said, teasing her with a little smirk.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… It’s just… I don’t know why, but you really look familiar.”

            He shrugged. “Well, I mean, my face is kind of plastered all over the city,” he laughed.

            Marinette rolled her eyes at him, but smiled nonetheless. “That’s not what I meant! I guess it’s just my brain playing tricks on me…” she sighed, instantly reaching for her emerald earrings, right next to her black diamond Miraculouses.

            Adrien didn’t miss the gesture– His heart skipped a beat and a change of subject was now critical. “You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

            “Oh… right,” Marinette recalled with a click of the tongue. “Well, you’re probably gonna think I’m a dork– but my favorite part is actually when Amélie and Nino officially meet for the first time.”

            Adrien frowned. “Seriously? That must be the most awkward scene of the entire movie…”

            Marinette snorted. “That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong.”

            “Care to explain, then?”

            Marinette didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took her time to choose her words and enjoy the taste of the pie. “Amélie and Nino are both pariahs of society,” she started, and she was looking right through Adrien, her gaze, suddenly lost somewhere behind him. “They’re awkward– They don’t know how to properly interact with people.

            “Amélie lived her whole life in a bubble and built herself a unique, colorful, extraordinary world that no one other than her seems to understand. Her brain functions… differently.

            “During the entire movie, she goes, seeking for love and affection, but she never lets anyone in. Then, she meets Nino. When their eyes meet, in the train station, it isn’t just _love at first sight_ … It’s more of a soul bounding. It’s _scary_.

            “Many people have tried to burst her bubble, before. No one has ever succeeded.” She paused, her eyes finally finding those of Adrien, and the latter smiled softly. She took a sip of water, before carrying on, “when she called him for the first time and realized he worked in a sex shop, she immediately assumed that he was some sort of a player– That he will never want anything serious with her. She didn’t want to get hurt, so she backed off.”

            Immediately, Marinette realized she wasn’t talking about Amélie anymore, but rather about herself– About the way she’s acted towards Cat Noir.

            She shook her head, to lose the thought, and forced herself to focus on Adrien. “It takes her neighbor’s encouragement to keep her from giving up. When she…”

            Her voice suddenly broke, as tears began to fill up her throat, but the blond man placed a gentle hand over hers and squeezed, pressing her to continue. Touching her was so easy, he thought, innate, even.

            “When she opened the door that day and saw him, it was over. She couldn’t go back. He had finally cornered her– He had spent days and weeks chasing after her, fighting for her, and he had finally found her– He’d won, she had to face the truth. So, when she kisses him, she is not _just_ kissing him. She is saying: this is me. Look at me. Love me. Amélie doesn’t need words, she speaks in actions. I welcome you, in this bubble. Be careful, it’s fragile.” A shattered sigh escaped her lips, as a single tear escaped the corner of her eye– She wiped it away with the back of her hand almost immediately. “When _he_ kisses her back, he is saying I love you back. He’s making her a promise. And now that he finally got her, he’s not ever letting her… _go_.”

            Her heart stung when she remembered Cat Noir’s words but she bit down her sobs and tried to smile anyway. Adrien simply gazed at her.

            “Yeah, yeah… I know. I’m a dork,” Marinette snorted, taking back her hand, and immediately missing the contact. But she’d kissed Cat Noir, yesterday– She couldn’t go around holding other guys’ hands anymore, and she could definitely not lead Adrien on.

            “I was going to say that what you said was beautiful– The way you look at the movie, I mean,” the latter admitted. “I– I’ve never seen things under this particular angle.”

            “Makes you rethink everything, doesn’t it?”

            “Yeah… It really does.”

 

***

 

The bar of _The Grand Paris_ was uncharacteristically quiet, when Audrey Bourgeois stepped in, but then again, rare were the people who drank in bright daylight. A blond woman in a Chanel dress was sitting alone, sipping on an exquisite 1982 white Bordeaux. She was instantly joined by the hotel owner’s wife. “Who are you kidding dressed like that, huh?” the latter asked, after ordering a pink cocktail. “Drinking expensive wine like you know what you’re doing, and walking like you’re constantly on a fucking runway. Should I remind you, my dear, that we grew up on the same street? You’re nothing more than a piece of suburban white trash. Just like me.”

            The blond woman did not answer. She didn’t even look in Audrey’s direction.

            “Bold of you to come back, after all these years. Does anyone know that you’re here?”

            “No,” the blond woman answered, her voice low, almost imperceptible. “And I would appreciate it if it remained that way.”

            “Don’t you want to see your boys?” Audrey wondered. “Don’t you miss them?”

            “I do miss them. But I have a Longshadow to kill and two Miraculouses to steal back, before I can dream of going home.”

            “Haven’t you heard? Longshadow has been dead for almost six years now. His granddaughter is selling everything he ever owned.”

            “ _What_?”

            “You lost Nooroo and Duusu again, my dear,” Audrey cackled, emptying her glass in one go. “Well, we know that Nooroo is still Paris, at least. See, there’s this new super-villain, _Hawk Moth_ , who gets off on terrorizing citizens and destroying our lives. Ugh– Such a _creep_.”

            The blond woman snapped her head at her, and the latter was suddenly hit by the color of her eyes– Green, gorgeous, and pulsing with electricity. “What about Duusu? Where is _she_? And the book? What happened to the book?”

            “My money’s on a very rich Japanese guy.”

            “Audrey,” the blond woman grumbled, her teeth, gritting. “There’s nothing funny about this.”

            Audrey snorted, clicked her tongue. “That’s because you’re looking at it from the wrong perspective, _Emilie_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Heaven Knows, The Pretty Reckless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2LdI7rzowk)
> 
>  
> 
> Hey, guys!  
> So, actually, _Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain_ is one of my favorite movies and Amélie and Nino's dynamics inspired my Ladybug and Cat Noir's at times.  
>  Here are the link to Marinette's favorite part of the movie (and mine!) in addition to that of the movie's trailer, if you're interested. Tell me what you think of it :)
> 
> [Amélie and Nino officially meet for the first time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkLkim0HYME)
> 
> _Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain_ , [bande annonce (trailer)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUECWi5pX7o)
> 
> You don't need to watch them, of course, but it's always nice to have an idea :)


	10. Purple haze

 

Marinette’s red lipstick matched her lacy underwear and she didn’t have a bra on– Adrien didn’t check, of course, he just decided to take Alya’s word for it and wait patiently for his brain to unfreeze.

            Tonight, the drinks were free, so Nino obviously chose to serve local, cheap alcohol– French beer tasted like shit, but Adrien still tried to get drunk on it.

            People were smoking in the backyard and he was just waiting for one of them to lose a finger to frostbite.

            The music was loud– Nino had chosen the playlist and no one, other than him, was allowed near his set-up. DJ-ing was his thing, he said.

            Adrien tried to talk to everyone, get to know Marinette’s friends. Most of them were acquaintances from school or university and were agreeable, although he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if they were simply nice by nature. In the end, however, as he came to notice, no one really cared for his presence, so he just stayed by the punch bowl, avoiding vain chitchats and empty conversations.

            The room was messy and hot and the furniture was sticky, but people were having fun, dancing, playing dart and pool, and making out in dark corners. There were empty bottles laid all over the ground, just waiting for someone to trip over them– Adrien was almost a victim– and slowly driving Nino at edge– He just finished varnishing the floor, last week, he kept on repeating, as he carefully stepped over the god-awful clutter, picking up big chunks of broken glass and quickly wiping off some of the largest puddles of alcohol. Adrien tried to suppress a laugh and decided to lay a hand instead of just watching him.

            “Hey, dude,” Nino said, standing up to give him a proper handshake. “How’s it going? Are you liking the party?”

            Adrien nodded. “Very much so,” he lied. “I am thrilled to have been… invited.”

            The bar owner slapped him on the back. “Stop with the nonsense.” He chuckled. “Loosen up, it’s a party!” He shoved a beer in front of the blond man’s face. “Here, drink up. You probably need it more than anyone else.”

            Adrien smiled, reluctantly taking the bottle, and started to drink. “I don’t plan on staying long, you know. I’m just here because Marinette and Felix wanted me to come.”

            “It’s hard to say no to someone like Marinette, ain’t I right?”

            Adrien couldn’t but agree with him– Marinette Dupain-Cheng had this kind of power that, whatever she asked, he wouldn’t be able to refuse it to her– even if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to refuse her anything– She deserved the world just for being able to put up with his brother. “Where’s Felix? Have you seen him?”

            Nino shrugged. “I thought you two were coming together.”

            “As did I. He texted me last minute to let me know that he’ll be late but… it’s been like an hour now. And it’s not like I know a lot of people here…”

            “Don’t worry– He’ll show up,” Nino assured him. “Ninette made him promise _three_ times.”

            “Yeah, they seem pretty close. Do you know how long have they known each other?”

            “I don’t know, man. Five– Six years, maybe? Why?”

            Adrien shook his head. “Oh, I was just curious, that’s all. I’m a little surprised they’re still friends after all this time– Felix has a strong habit of pushing people away.”

            Nino laughed. “Tell me about it,” he said, taking a large sip of his beer. “We used to be friends, too. One day, he just decided he didn’t want to hang out with us anymore. But it takes way more than that to drive Ninette away, y’know. See, _friends_ , they come and go like… like ocean waves… But true ones, like her, they just stick to you, like… Like an _octopus_ on your face,” he quoted, extremely serious, shimmying his free hand in front Adrien’s face to make a point, and the latter was now convinced that Nino was _smashed_.

            “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said nonetheless.

            “Don’t tell her I said that, though. She’ll probably take it the wrong way…”

            “Really? I’m shocked. Who wouldn’t like to be compared to a hideous mollusk grossly sticking on someone’s face?”

            Nino shrugged again and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. It’s a pretty nice compliment if you ask me. Creative, too, don’t you think? And definitely character-fitting.”

            Adrien kept Nino from drinking another mouthful of beer and took the bottle from his hands. “I think you’ve had enough, for tonight. How about some water? Your body will thank you tomorrow morning.”

            Nino shifted to stand right in front of Adrien and put both his hands on the latter’s shoulders. “Thanks, man, it really means a lot to me,” he said earnestly, and Adrien had to force himself not to laugh out loud. “You’re a _good_ friend, Aurélien,” he told him, before pulling him in for a hug.

            “Thanks, Nino, but… it’s actually _Adrien_.”

            At that, Nino immediately let go and stared at him, as utter panic disfigured his face. “What did I say?”

            “You said… Never mind, actually. It’s not important.”

            Nino was quick to relax. “Oh, okay. Well then, I’m gonna leave you to it– I’m gonna go find my lady… Catch you later?”

            Adrien nodded. “Sure.”

            “And don’t worry about your friend. He’ll show up, eventually.”

            “Thanks, Nino,” Adrien snorted.

            “Don’t mention it!” the latter shot back, giving Adrien a thumbs-up before disappearing into the dark.

            “Adrien! There you are!” Marinette’s voice called him, as both her hands firmly gripped his arm. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Come! Dance with me!” she said, dragging him towards the crowded dance floor.

            He didn’t argue– not that she really gave him any chance to do so– and immediately found himself surrounded by a flood of sweaty, stinky, half-drunk people bouncing sloppily at the sound of the music, as if they just realized the inconvenience of having so much arms and legs, bumping against each other, jumping, shouting, just making a spectacle of themselves.

            Marinette, however, was nothing like them– Her movements were synchronized– It seemed as if the notes wrapped themselves around her limbs and guided her every gesture, as if she _spoke_ to the music.

            Verbal conversations weren’t exactly her forte, everyone knew that– She stuttered easily and rambled on her words more often than not. It was somewhat difficult for her to turn her secret, inaudible thoughts into concrete, almost tangible sentences.

            In addition to that, she was small and thin, and she seemed fragile. She was beautiful, of course, noticeable by many, but she could just as simply shrink, fade into the background and disappear, if she wanted to.

            But when she danced, it was like _that_ was the true, only way her body had to really communicate with the world and express itself. Her personality, her sensuality, her aura all burst into the most vibrant picture of a colorful, powerful, _magical_ soul.

            She was a vision of pure passion, lighting up a flame of insatiable lust in everyone who dared to glance in her direction.

            Adrien watched her move, gaped at her smallest deeds and gestures, and he just knew he was long gone when she grasped the neck of his shirt to try and pull him closer.

            The heat, suddenly, was tropical.

            Steam slicked on her skin like thick silk and her sweat smelled like sweetness and harmony. No one, truly, should be denied the right to watch her on a dance floor.

            “ _Purple haze, all in my brain– Lately things… They don’t seem the same!_ ” she sang along with Jimi Hendrix, her voice alone, sending waves of electricity all through his body. “ _Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why– ‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky!_ ”

            His hands were on her hips, his chest was pressed against her back, and she was guiding his every movement. Adrien had taken dance lessons before, sure, he knew the basics, he waltzed and his tango partners had no means to complain, plus, he was a pianist, so believe him when he said he knew a thing or two about music, but, dancing with Marinette felt like an out-of-body experience– _Not_ in the good way: he was here, he knew exactly what to do and how to do it, but his muscles were paralyzed, and his legs were huge chunks of wood that were slowly merging with the floor. The scent of her was intoxicating, her touch, venomous, and, when she glanced at him over her shoulder, he felt like a caged animal– The color of her eyes was incomparable and he swore he already has been bewitched by them before.

            _Ladybug! You love Ladybug! You are in love with Ladybug! You kissed Ladybug!_ his brain screamed inside his head, but Marinette’s voice was louder, stronger, almost deafening. _You kissed Ladybug! You kissed Ladybug! You kissed Ladybug!_

            Then, the song was over, and both he and Marinette were breathing heavily. She quickly let go of him and spun around to face him. She smiled, he smiled back, but none of them could talk yet. She gestured for him to go outside for some fresh air. He nodded and followed her.

            The gardens of the _Nargiz_ looked like the perfect romantic patio, with Christmas lights hanging on the trees and the greenhouse walls and poking out of the bushes, while candles burned on the tables.

            “Daffodils are Alya’s favorite flowers– Nino always plants them at the end of fall,” Marinette explained, as they walked through the garden. The night chills bit on his exposed skin and Adrien suddenly felt dumb for leaving his coat inside when Marinette had been smart enough to take hers. “But they don’t bloom until late February– Such a shame. With the lights, and the candles, flowers would’ve just added a touch of _je-ne-sais-quoi_ to all of this…” she sighed dreamily.

            She let out a light chuckle and walked over to Alya, Adrien trailing after her. The red-haired woman was leaning against the fence, a cigarette in hand, while reading something on her phone. She didn’t bother to look up when Marinette greeted her and instead just handed her a lighter and a pack of Winston Blue.

            “I didn’t know you smoked,” Adrien noted, as Marinette placed a cigarette between her lips.

            “Well, like half Parisians aged between eighteen and thirty-four, I do,” she replied with a smirk. “Want one?”

            Adrien didn’t smoke, but took one nonetheless– He didn’t want to go back inside and besides… one couldn’t hurt.

            “If you’re later worried about your breath, just eat a piece of chocolate. It’ll do the trick,” Alya advised him, her eyes, still glued to her phone screen. “To get rid of the smell on your fingers, you just use lemon juice.”

            “Uh… T-thanks, I guess. Talking from experience?”

            She nodded. “Nino hates it when I smoke– He says it gives him the impression to make out with an ashtray, so… I had to come up with um… some effective _solutions_.”

            “Good to know,” he remarked, taking out his golden spade zippo to light his cigarette– He didn’t miss Marinette’s wince when she noticed it and instantly reached for her necklace, but didn’t comment, and started by inhaling a small puff– Adrien wasn’t exactly an expert, unlike Alya and Marinette, who drank up the smoke, barely breathing out any of it, but he managed not to look ridiculous with a cig in hand. “Does anyone have the time?”

            “’Half past eleven,” Marinette answered, taking a quick look at her watch. “Why?”

            “Nothing, I– Uh… I was just wondering where Felix was. He said he was going to be here.”

            “Oh, he is. I just saw him by the bar,” Alya said, before uttering a high-pitched piercing sound, while shoving her phone right in front of her best friend’s face. “My article got approved! It got _approved_!” she continued to scream, jumping up and down, suddenly unable to contain her excitement. “Oh, my God! I got it! _Mari_! I got _it_! Guys, brace yourselves, because you’re looking at the new editor in chief of _The Masks of Paris_!” she exclaimed, with a smug hair flip and a hand to her hip, before carelessly lighting out her cigarette on the fence and dropping it in her empty cup. “Just– Be sure to buy the next issue of _Le Figaro Magazine_ and read my article, alright, Blondie? I’m off! I need to find Nino and tell him!”

            She abruptly took off then, and Marinette and Adrien watched her leave, agape, before they burst out laughing. “Oh, man, it’s like the _Ladyblog_ all over again,” Marinette chuckled, taking a last puff of cigarette before lighting it out in the first ashtray she saw.

            “Wait… _Alya_ is the moderator of the _Ladyblog_?” he asked, imitating her by putting out his own cigarette.

            “Yeah… I thought she already mentioned it…”

            He shook his head. “Oh, wow. I can’t believe it– I spent my whole teenagehood stalking this blog. The articles were amazing, and the pictures… I always wondered how she managed to get this close– Wait a second… Her last name is Césaire? _She_ is Alya Césaire?” he asked, before he even realized what he was saying. He slapped a hand over his mouth to force it shut– As Cat Noir, this name was more than familiar to him– Ladybug and he spent crucial minutes during akuma attacks to lock her up somewhere when she was reckless enough to go after them herself. But she always wore hoodies and had this huge camera in front of her face, and he never really got to get a look at her face.

            “Careful,” Marinette warned him, waggling her eyebrows, “your fanboy-glow is showing.”

            “Ha, you’re one to talk, Ms. Neon-Green-Manicure,” Adrien scoffed, holding out one of her hands as proof. “I’m sure you stalk him on the Internet, too!”

            Marinette snorted. “Or I just happen to like green. Have you ever thought of that?”

            “Sure,” he shrugged, grinning slyly. “But, in my defense, you’re also the kind of girl that sews giant paw print motifs on her leather pants’ back pockets, so…”

            She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. I’m sure you wear Ladybug-themed underwear, anyway.”

            “Ah. Well… I guess you’ll never know,” Adrien said in a low voice, creasing his eyelids. He stared at her, a narrow smile on his lips, giving her the same mysterious, enigmatic look he gave journalists and photographers– But Marinette was way smarter than a meager camera.

            “Oh, no, no…,” she giggled. “You’re so not cut out to be the strong and silent type. I mean, seeing you in magazines or on giant billboards, one might wonder… but after meeting and getting to know you? Nu-uh…,” she shook her head, “you definitely cannot pull off the ‘deranged and indecipherable’ look, Agreste.”

            Adrien gaped at her in complete disbelief, falsely outraged by her remark. “Hey! I can be mysterious and deranged if I wanted to.”

            Marinette smirked. “You own Ladybug dolls.”

            “They’re **_figurines_** ,” he quickly rectified, his hands on his hips. “Besides, everyone has them– Like eighty-four percent of Parisians aged between four and ninety-four, I’m a huge fan of Ladybug,” he winked. “Bite me.”

            Marinette’s face softened and her smile widened. She shrugged and shoved her hands down the furry pockets of her coat. “Ladybug’s nothing without Cat Noir, you know.”

            Adrien scoffed. “I’m sorry, but do you see him capturing and purifying akumas, lately? I think it’s rather the other way around.”

            She glanced away to hide her blush. “Ladybug _needs_ him to maintain focus– She can’t do it alone. Sometimes, she loses herself in the adrenaline and pandemonium of the battle, and he’s the only one that’s able to snap her back to reality.” She paused, but still refused to look at him– She knew she wouldn’t be able to pursue if she did. “When he’s not around… it’s like… something’s missing. Her courage, her determination is missing. He’s her other half and she just needs him to remind her why she’s here, doing what she does, and why she’s been chosen.” Marinette breathed deeply and finally dared to look up, and Adrien’s eyes were focused on her, his snickers, long gone. She swallowed audibly and tried to smile. “It’s like… You can’t fight without your legs, right? Just imagine Cat Noir being Ladybug’s legs.”

            “You seem so sure about yourself,” he whispered, and she almost didn’t hear him. “You could be wrong.”

            “But I’m not,” she countered, and she so confident suddenly, he knew nothing he would say will make her change her mind. “Ladybug needs Cat Noir to… to feel _safe_ and to keep balance. I mean… Look at it this way; there’s no white without black, no creation without destruction, no light without darkness. No peace without chaos. He’s the yin to her yang.”

            Adrien fell silent for a while, but Marinette didn’t feel the need to add anything. “I– I’ve never seen things from this perspective, before,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.

            Marinette chuckled, then nudged him lightly on the arm. “You just need to have more faith in Paris’ favorite black cat,” she said, smiling brightly.

            “Why do you like him so much, though? Like… at the end of the day, he’s just some random dude behind a mask who gets his powers from his ring, wears an alarming amount of black leather, and waits around to follow Ladybug’s instructions.”

            Marinette pouted. “Well, Ladybug’s just a random girl behind a mask who gets her powers from her earrings, wears a suit made of red latex, and has the annoying tendency to always need to be in a state of constant control. But no one seems to have a problem trusting her.”

            Adrien snorted. “It’s probably ‘cause she doesn’t hold in her hands the destructive powers of misfortune and cataclysm.”

            “Well, it’s been six years now, and he’s never once used them for things other than the greater good.”

            “How do you know it’ll remain this way? How do you know he won’t go rogue and start terrorizing the citizens of Paris _à la_ Hawk Moth?” he asked, and he was looking at her like he was begging her to prove him wrong.

            Adrien has been called a liar and a traitor before.

            He has been called a thug, a thief, a brute– In his teenage years, he was known to be a runaway and always get into fights– He fought his father almost every day and the latter only saw him as a bearer of bad news.

            His own brother didn’t trust him, hated him, and now, he just _desperately_ needed someone, _anyone_ , to prove them all wrong. To convince him that he was a good person, that he deserved to be loved, and held, that he deserved that someone, at least, believed in him.

            “How do you know Ladybug will not call on her Lucky Charm and create the ultimate nuclear weapon to annihilate half of the world’s population? How do you know she won’t try and take advantage of Cat Noir and steal his ring, only to raise havoc on the entire _universe_?”

            He looked down and she watched him playing nervously with the ring on his finger. She reached out and took his hands in hers, and smiled softly. In the moonlight, her emerald earrings shone almost as vibrantly as her eyes, full of stars, and light, and love, and she looked like she had just figured him out. He couldn’t bring himself to return her beam.

            “I don’t know…” he murmured, “It just doesn’t sound like the kind of thing she would do.”

            “Well, you don’t know her, do you?”

            “She would’ve done it years ago if it really was her plan all along.”

            “Maybe she’s just waiting for the perfect opportunity. Maybe she’s waiting for Hawk Moth to be defeated and for her to be acclaimed as the new national hero. After that, no one will really question her motives or integrity, until it is too late. You know what they say about History always repeating itself…” She shrugged. “What if she’s France’s next Philippe Pétain?”

            He didn’t say anything and she squeezed his hands gently, urging him to look at her. He let out an empty chuckle and made a last attempt to smile– it came off weird and fake, and Marinette hated it instantly.

            “If you can’t picture _that_ happening… How can you see Cat Noir doing something like this?”

            “I don’t know. Sidekicks often have the nasty tendencies to betray their leader and join the latter’s sworn enemy’s side in bad action movies.”

            Marinette shrugged. “Good thing Cat Noir is not Ladybug’s sidekick, then. He’s her partner.”

            Adrien stared at her hands and entangled his fingers with hers. He smirked. “You can’t stand anyone discrediting him, can you?”

            “Nope.”

            “You’re incredible, you know that?” he sighed, as his hands grasped her wrists and gently went up her forearms to pull her closer.

            She nodded. “Yeah, lots of people agree on that,” she said, as she began to lean into him.

            _Too close_ , his brain started to panic and he had to find a way to tell her, _right now_ , that he was involved with someone else. That he was involved with Ladybug. That he was in love with Ladybug, for _God’s sake_ , and that he needed to snap out of it, and quick–

            But Marinette made it so easy for someone to fall for her.

            “I– I need to go… uh… I have something… I– _Sorry_ _,_ ” he stammered, blushing hard as he let go of her almost brutally, and ran towards the exit, leaving her high and dry in the cold, forgetting to even check on Felix or say goodbye to Alya and Nino.

            He stopped in a dark back-street alley and urged Plagg, who was quietly snoozing in one his pockets, to wake up and transform him.

            “If you want to get home so bad, there’re still night buses every forty-five minutes. Why do you always have this _need_ to exhaust me, child?” the kwami yawned and stretched in an exaggerated fashion. “I’m old, you know. I don’t see you fussing on over old people taking naps and trying to limit their movements.”

            “First of all, you’re not a person, but a mystical being. Second of all, _claws out_!”

            “One day, Adrien… You just wait…” the tiny cat was able to hiss before getting sucked into his owner’s ring.

            A flash of green light later, Adrien Agreste was gone and Cat Noir was standing in his place. He expertly unhooked his pole from his belt and used it to get on the rooftop of the building he was leaning against.

            Sometimes, racing on the century-old blue-gray tiles that shaped Paris’ architectural identity was enough to clear his mind and keep it from wandering too far– He used his leather ears to block out the voices in his head and focus on the noises that surrounded him–

            The wind that howled through the branches of naked trees, whose shadows shaped scary witchy fingers on the windows of young children.

            The water of the Seine that crashed into the concrete, as riverboats passed by, offering their passengers romantic candlelit dinners and outstanding musical performances. Cars that drove by, stopping at each traffic light, in the middle of empty streets. People that sat on the terraces of expensive restaurants, enjoying the cold breeze and delicious food, and toasting to a random newly happy couple.

            The lights of the Eiffel Tower, tonight, brighter than the stars and moon. Among them, he dared to hope to find a Ladybug-shaped silhouette, waiting for him.

            But there was no one when he arrived because it was Saturday night, and he felt stupid to think that she’d waste such a beautiful night on him.

            _Maybe someday_ , he thought to himself, lifting two fingers to stroke his lips.

            “Can’t wait, M’Lady,” he whispered to no one, as he stared dreamily at the full moon and starry sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Purple Haze, Jimi Hendrix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqfElKkC60A)
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> I wanted to make this chapter longer, but then it would've been too heavy and I thought better of it.  
> Also, smoking kills and doesn't make you look cool. Better to stay away from it.


	11. Dieu qu'elle était belle

Felix hated parties, and though he assured her many times that yes, he will, in fact, be attending Alya and Nino’s gathering, Marinette was still surprised to see him coming at all.

            She didn’t dance with him because he wasn’t comfortable with the crowd but they still talked, a little, before he disappeared mysteriously. Marinette didn’t really give it much thought– Felix had spent so much time doused inside his hellhole of an apartment, he just forgot the basic rules of social interactions. Also, having this much people around him would’ve eventually, unavoidably lead him to close up even more. Blaming him for that was just plain stupid, and a gigantic waste of time.

            He would say hi and try to smile, nod, sometimes, but would freeze when people would start asking more intimate questions, because that meant that, inevitably and despite his best efforts, the conversation still wasn’t ending. How are you doing? Do you come here often? How do you know Marinette? Hey, isn’t your dad that super famous designer-guy? Oh wait, I know where I’ve seen you before– You’re that guy, from the perfume ad, aren’t you? No. This is Adrien, you twat, he more than once felt the eagerness to say. We do not look alike at all. My eyes are blue and his hair is darker.

            But if he had to be nice to people and act like he wanted to be here, to please Marinette, then by golly, he was going to win an Oscar for his performance.

            “That’s because he’s dead inside,” Alya explained, busying herself with plastic plates and cups that were left on the tables or on the ground.

            “Don’t say that,” Marinette reproached, putting back some stolen expensive bottles behind the bar– Nino was going to be pissed in the morning. “He’s not _dead inside_. He’s just… shy.”

            “He’s not shy. He’s the vice-president of Big Daddy’s enterprise’s _communication_ department and he’s like the best at it. You cannot be shy and make your whole life about meeting new people and talking in public. It’s just… it doesn’t make sense. No, really. He’s _dead_. His father killed him– He died from over-exhaustion, like two years ago.”

            Marinette frowned, but Alya smirked defiantly. The young designer rolled her eyes at her best friend. “You’re terrible.”

            “Just stating the facts,” Alya shrugged.

            It’s not the talking, really, nor the people, that bothered him– he worked with stupid people all the time and could talk for hours about numbers and statistic tables, and pie charts. It was the setting– he hadn’t had any time to rehearse his answers and had no power point presentation or chalk drawings on a blackboard to support his arguments. He felt somewhat… naked, exposing himself suchlike.

            How was he doing? Well, he was doing fine. The interview he was just coming from had gone perfectly, in fact, and he’ll be expecting a phone call from the company by the end of next week. It was great news actually, and his father– yes, that super famous designer-guy– wasn’t even trying to hold him back– the latter was even encouraging him to spread his horizons and move away to Milan.

            Did he come here often? Hell, no. He preferred drinking his problems away at home or in a rabbit hole where no one knew who he was and where no paparazzi would come looking for him– Duh.

            How did he know Marinette? Mh… How to say? He had been in love with Marinette for the past six years, now. She didn’t even know and he was rather content with the idea of only being her friend. However, even the making of this decision and the credence of what it implied weren’t able to counterbalance the fact that he saw her and Adrien dancing and almost walked on them kissing afterward, and that it hurt like Hell.

            How did he feel now? Easy– Heartbroken. There were no other words for it.

            He took a deep breath to regain his composure, but ended up throwing the bottle he was holding against a brick wall. Life was a bitch, and then, well, you died.

            “F-Felix? Is that you?” Marinette’s voice called out, as she strolled into the little alley behind Nino’s bar, carrying two big garbage bags that she tossed straight into the dumpsters. Felix’s brain screamed at the sound of her and, as she got closer, his heart began to pound frenetically, ready to jump out of his rib cage. “Is… everything alright?”

            There was concern and worry in the tone she employed and when her palm gently closed on one of his shoulders, he shook it off almost violently. “Go away, Marinette,” he mumbled, and he felt anger pulsating through his eyes.

            “Hey! What’s wrong?” she insisted, taking yet another step forward.

            His jaw tensed. Sometimes, like right now, he simply felt incapable of dealing with her legendary stubbornness and deeply regretted the very bolshie side of her personality. “Nothing. I told you to _go away_.”

            There was a pause and he heard her swallow. “D-did I do something to upset you? Y-you can talk to me, you know?”

            Felix sighed and turned to face her. She was wearing her coat but he still remembered how she looked like in her little black party dress, with long lacey sleeves and a deep V neck cutout. The lipstick shade she had chosen had worn out but it was difficult to forget how well red suited her. Her hair was a mess now, after hours of dancing and jumping, and probably making out with Adrien– “It’s… It’s nothing. I just… I can’t deal with you right now. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

            Marinette frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            Felix pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperated fashion. “It just means that I can’t _deal_ with you right now. _Goodness_ , Marinette! Why don’t you just leave it alone?” he groaned, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

            Marinette breathed deeply. “B-Because you’re my-my f-friend, and I-I _care_ about y-you,” she rambled on her words, suddenly feeling rather intimidated under Felix’s gaze.

            “Well, maybe I don’t want to be your friend? Have you ever thought of _that_?” the latter blurted out before he could stop himself, and gulped, regretting every word the instant Marinette’s face went pallid.

            “W-what?”

            He glanced away, shoving his hands in his pockets, and trying desperately not to blush. “Nothing,” he grumbled again. “I– Forget I said anything. Just go and leave me alone. I need to be alone.”

            “Felix, what’s wrong?” the young woman asked, more persistent now than ever. “ _Talk to me_.”

            He shrugged. “I think I drank too much. I’d better head home. I’ll call a cab or something. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

            He was about to walk past her when she shifted to block his route. She looked at him with dark eyes and clenched teeth, as utter determination just radiated from her. “Tell me. You’re one of my best friends. I’m here for you. Don’t shut me out.”

            He looked down, still refusing to answer.

            “Was there something with your father? Was it about Milan? Didn’t you get the job?” she tried to guess, but he dodged each of her questions with ease.

            “Father’s fine– He’s actually more excited about Milan than me.”

            “Then what is it?” No answer. “Felix? _What is going on_?”

            “It’s _you_!” he finally broke out and his eyes rounded at the realization. “It’s– It’s… _you_ … _You_ are what’s wrong,” he murmured, tears prickling in his eyes, but he swallowed them immediately.

            She took a step backward and his heart shattered a little more. “Wha… What do you mean?”

            He ran a hand through his hair to try and calm down, maybe even limit the damage, but the floodgates were open now, and he wasn’t strong enough to fight against the flow of words that submerged his throat. “You still don’t get it, do you?! How stupid does someone have to be to be this _blind_?! I– 'm…” he paused, took a look at her face, and went on, “I’m in love with you, Marinette.”

            Marinette’s jaw flew open but she didn’t say anything– She tried to speak, of course, but the revelation had left her agape. A long minute elapsed, and Felix snorted, finally looking down, his sobs caught at the back of his gullet.

            “Yeah, okay. I get it. Don’t worry about it– I guess… I guess I already knew. I– Just forget about it.”

            “Felix… I– I’m so sorry…”

            “It’s _fine_ , Marinette,” he said, a little more harshly. “I just… I need to get out of here.”

            This time, she didn’t try to get in his way.

            He stopped at the end of the alley and glanced at her over his shoulder– she was looking at him with a mix of confusion and sadness and guilt in her eyes. “You’re still my best friend in the entire world, Marinette, and I promise I won’t do anything stupid.”

            “Okay…” she managed to say, before she saw him disappear into the night.

            There was another minute of silence before Tikki stuck her giant head out of her owner’s purse. “Wow… I gotta say, Marinette– I surely wasn’t expecting _that_ ,” the kwami remarked, in a soft, high-pitched voice.

            “Yeah… tell me about it…”

 

***

 

Weeks passed by with no akuma in sight. This was good news for all Parisians but, for Adrien, it meant that he still didn’t get a chance to see or talk to Ladybug since the Strongarm shit show.

            It snowed on the first of December and people got excited about the possibility of a white Christmas– the first one in many years.

            Christmas lights and decorations hugged every corner of the city’s buildings and a giant fifty-six-feet-tall Christmas tree has been planted right in the middle of the Lafayette galleries, even shinier than last year’s. Not to forget that the Christmas market was now finally open to public in front of City Hall along with the enormous ice-skating rink that people never seemed to leave. Tourists came from all over France and Europe to get a taste of all the festivities and try out the notorious _bûche de Noël_.

            Around this time of year, Adrien Agreste’s face didn’t have its place on the billboards anymore, and the latters rather chose to remind the people that _The Sea Girls_ played at the _Trianon_ until the eleventh of January, that the _Singin’ in the rain_ musical was back at the _Grand Palais_ for the holidays, and that _Slava’s Snowshow_ at the _13 ème Art_ was a spectacle enjoyable for all.

            It was always during the Christmas period that ads began to be taken seriously. December was a month full of love and happiness and glee, and marketing agencies corporates used it skillfully and actually managed to convince Parisians that it was time to fill up their cupboards with _Ferrero Rocher_ chocolate boxes and made a point to persuade them that they had to start coming up with Christmas presents ideas for their loved ones… So, why not settle for a frosty piece of jewelry from _Cartier_ ’s newest collection– the perfect gift, for your special someone?

            Marinette let out a deep sigh as she glanced away from the giant advertising board in which her father invested lots of money to attract more clients– The ad was smart and nice, depicting _La Mie Dorée_ as a proud little family business, and had proven itself efficient enough, for Tom’s monthly sales had increased considerably since.

            According to tips some fans posted on the _Ladyblog_ , Cat Noir often spent his nights out, lately, jumping above the streets and running on rooftops, sometimes, sitting for hours at the top of the highest buildings, probably looking out for any sign of danger all while enjoying the quietness of the darkest hours.

            Marinette often dreamt about him, about finding herself on her balcony one night, while Tikki dozed off in the comfort of their apartment, and he would just appear next to her, out of nowhere, to swipe her off her feet. He would look as devilishly handsome as usual and would shoot her this irresistible look, smiling that damned smile of his. He would say something in a dallying voice that would turn her knees to jelly, before taking her, and making love to her all night long– she always wondered what would happen if she tugged on his collar bell.

            They would kiss passionately for hours and he would touch her everywhere while her skin would just… come _alive_ under his hands. She didn’t need to imagine how his lips would feel like, anymore– she just needed to remember... How he kissed her, how he swallowed her whole. How she threw him against a wall and how his fingers stroked her body, pressing it against his, hungry with fire and want and desire.

            She closed her eyes, took a sip of her white wine, and pictured herself dragging him through her balcony glass doors, then all around her apartment until they both crashed onto her bed and melted into each other in the same brutal, animalistic passion that animated the first sex of the two protagonists of one horrible, terrible romantic movie.

            It was freezing outside. Her quilt hanged lazily around her, her bed, getting colder by the second, but she simply found herself unable to go back to sleep– she thought the alcohol might help; Nino hated it when she drank because two glasses of red wine would usually be enough to knock her out completely. Sometimes, music was enough to drown the most persistent nightmares, but tonight, the latters just wouldn’t leave her alone. She didn’t want to wake Tikki up, so she slid quietly out of her room and settled on her balcony.

            Below her, the streets were empty, and, as she took a look at the giant clock tower in front of her building, she guessed her parents will soon be getting up.

            She had just finished her glass and was about to pour herself another one when the sound of a little tolling bell came into focus and startled her. She thought it was the akuma alert at first, but then realized it wasn’t loud or raucous enough. As she lifted her head and looked around to see where the sound was coming from, her heart stopped when her gaze found that of a black silhouette with glowing green eyes that were staring right at her.

            She blushed, straightened up and rearranged her blanket around her shoulders, when it made a move towards her. It smiled softly and greeted her with a wave, and, in a split of a second, Cat Noir was sitting on her balcony’s handrail.

            “Waiting for the sunrise?” he asked, and she almost dropped her glass.

            “W-What? Uh… y-yeah… I’m… Yeah,” she stuttered, and she just wanted someone to slap her in the face for not being able to form _words_. Was her Ladybug suit really the only thing that kept her from falling apart in front of him? _Ugh. Get a fucking grip._

            He smiled again, more gently, and turn away to face the sky. Marinette really had a beautiful view from her balcony. “Me too,” he said. “I find it very difficult to sleep, lately. D-do… Do you mind if I stay here for a little bit? It’s nice to have some company, for once.” She welcomed him with a smile and he thanked her with a nod. “It’s Marinette, right? We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

            Marinette blushed even harder. “Uh, yeah– p-plenty! Uh, I mean… Probably once or twice… I remember you saving me from a couple of villains.”

            “I remember.” His eyes narrowed and gears moved in his brain as he tried to empty it to think properly. “The Evillustrator, right? There was also Gamer, and that time when your grandma got akumatized.”

            She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Y-yeah,” she whispered. “I’m surprised you even– It was a long time ago.”

            “I admit to having forgotten,” he confessed. “But Ladybug and I have been studying past akuma attacks and their correlations with the more recent ones and, well… It kinda refreshes the memory, you know.”

            She smiled, tried to relax. “So… what’s been keeping you up?” she asked in a little voice, and she wondered all of a sudden if she should offer him a glass of wine, or anything to eat.

            “Ah… Family matter, I guess, some superhero stuff, as well. You know, the usual,” he joked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “What about you?”

            “Me? Uh… Nightmares, mostly.”

            He turned to face her, wide-eyed. “What kind of nightmares?”

            She shrugged. “It’s… It’s nothing important.”

            “It is important if they keep you from sleeping,” he remarked, but didn’t insist further, and she was grateful for it.

            “Hawk Moth has been rather quiet lately,” she whispered, dying to say something to him, when she deemed they were quiet for too long.

            He sighed. “Yes, he has. These… irregularities in akuma attacks, I must say, have made it very difficult to anticipate the next one. It’s frustrating not to know how he thinks, and to have zero insight on what his next move might be.” He paused. “Last month, we had two akumas in the same week and now… I don’t even know when the next one will be… tomorrow… or in six months... There’s really no way to tell.”

            “Was there anything special about that particular week?” she dared to ask.

            He seemed to think about it but shook his head. “I mean… I don’t think so. He was probably on vacation or something. Must’ve had the time.”

            She chuckled and he smiled at her. She took in a deep breath and lifted her head towards the sky. There were clouds, tonight, shrouding the moon and stars, but the sight was still breathtaking– that, or Cat Noir’s presence was really making her nervous. “What are you gonna do with him when you defeat him?” she wondered.

            His jaw tensed a little bit and she regretted the question, but he answered nonetheless. “Take away his Miraculous and hand him to justice, I guess. Let the Supreme Court handle him. I’m not sure– We never really talked about it, with Ladybug.”

            She nodded. “It makes sense, I guess.”

            “We’re superheroes, not justice warriors. We protect the people, but, at the end of the day, they’re still free to do or think whatever they want.”

            “How very Batman of you,” she snorted.

            “I think you have your comics confused. Bruce Wayne is like the epitome of justice warrior," he remarked. "But, well, I have the ears, the gadgets, the muscles…” he said, gesturing to his leather ears, his pole and belt, and his torso, “I could totally pull off being Batman.”

            She clacked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Not without Alfred and the Batmobile, you don’t.”

            He laughed but didn’t say anything. Marinette looked away fretfully then grabbed the wine bottle on the table and proceeded to pour herself another glass. She managed to ask him– without stammering– if he wanted some, then felt a little guilty for drinking alone when he refused.

            “So, Christmas, huh?” she said, taking a big gulp of wine, as she looked at the lights and tinsels wrapped around lampposts and tree trunks on the streets, and the full-scale Santa stickers plastered on every shopwindow visible from her balcony. “Do you… Do you celebrate it?”

            Cat Noir let out a heavy sigh. “We used to… back when my mother was still uh… with us. It just seems futile now, you know? My father, my brother and I, we can barely stand each other anyway, so... Sometimes, we’re invited to some super fancy parties and stuff… Honestly, I just spend the night eating like really expensive food and drinking way too much champagne… only to regret it in the morning.”

            “I’m sorry…”

            He scoffed. “Don’t be. I mean… I’m not.”

            She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have asked. I wasn’t…”

            Her voice broke off, his face softened and he shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

            “Still,” she insisted. “It’s none of my business.”

            “Well, it’s not like I tried to hide it, or anything.” She didn’t answer and turned away, hugging her blanket even tighter, as she finished up her glass and disposed of it.

            She knew he had problems with his family, and she still was stupid enough to ask him about Christmas. Just, what kind of a damned idiot was she?

            He shifted on the handrail, and she thought he was going to leave now, because those bits of dull conversation between big chunks of awkward silence were seriously beginning to get on his last nerve, boring him to death and draining him from his energy, but he hopped down on her balcony floor instead.

            A second later, he was standing in front of her, gazing down at her with his glowing green eyes, and he was so tall, and so perfect, Marinette wasn’t sure if this wasn’t a dream.

            “Look, my family’s a little fucked-up, but I made my peace with it. I still love them, in a way, I guess, but I don’t try to hide the fact that my father has a pretty shitty way of ... well, being a father. I also don’t try to hide the fact that we’re not exactly _compatible_ , he and I, and that my relationship with my brother is uh… difficult. I don’t try to hide it from anyone, and especially not from _you_.”

            She blinked at the last word. “M-me? Why me?”

            He smirked. “Because you think that I’m the living embodiment of awesomeness and because you said that I’m fearsome, and tremendous, and kind. Also, because you’re one of the few people who really _believe_ in me,” he whispered as he pronounced the last sentence, and looked down, while pink invaded his cheeks.

            Marinette lifted an eyebrow, the right corner of her mouth slowly curling up, as her eyes sparkled with friskiness. “Where did you even hear all _that_?”

            “I have a pretty good hearing.”

            “A pretty good hearing, huh?” she snorted.

            He nodded, looking back at her. “Yeah, I’ve won many awards for it.”

            “I bet.”

            Marinette was beautiful– Adrien knew it from the day he first met her, under Felix’s porch. She had cherry black hair and blue, blue eyes, an amazing face scattered with tiny freckles that shone like glitter dust on her skin. Her lips were pink and swollen from the wine, and her neck was white, and smooth, and perfect, and he suddenly felt the urge to tarnish it with a hundred of purple-blue marks.

            He shook his head, closed his eyes, to lose the thought, but as he opened them again, they instantly found their way back to her, sliding over the plunging neckline of her sweater, before slightly drifting to her collarbone, and her cleavage– He didn’t mean to look, it wasn’t his first time trying hard to keep his eyes in hers, but she didn’t do anything to stop him, didn’t say anything to reprimand his behavior. If anything, she let her blanket drop a little, uncovering her naked shoulders, and took a step forward. He gasped at the realization, then stilled altogether when he finally got a full look at the golden pendant she always managed to hide under her clothes.

            “What is it?” she asked softly, but she knew perfectly that she had just been caught. No more running, no more escapes, she promised herself. It was time to be the brave, bold, daring woman everyone saw in her.

            “Where’d you get that necklace?” he inquired, daring to lift a hand to grab it. She let him.

            “It was a gift.” He heard her hesitate. “From an old woman I helped out a couple years ago. H-her name w-was… Marcella Ashram.” She paused to watch him look at it like he was examining some kind of miracle trapped between his clawed fingers. “It was a thank you gift.”

            “Did you put anything in it?”

            She didn’t answer right away, playing with the ends of the red ribbon she had previously tied around his collar bell. “A picture.” His head jerked up to look at her, waiting for the rest of the sentence. “A picture I took with my yo-yo when you weren’t looking,” she admitted shyly.

            He blushed. She thought it was adorable. “R-really? Y-you… You take pictures of me?”

            She shrugged, glanced away, only to find his gaze again. “Just this one.”

            “Can I… see it?”

            She nodded. “Open it.”

            He was smiling, in the picture, his pole on his shoulders, and his arms wrapped around it, his hair, blond, and messy, as if he’d just woken up. He wasn’t turning his back at her, but wasn’t looking at her either. He was looking at the fireworks that were unleashed at the top of the Arch of Triumph, every 14th of July– It was the first time they spent it together.

            “I like it,” he commented.

            She smiled, he smiled back. She wanted to kiss him– _Do it already, for Pete’s sake_ , said a voice at the back of her mind. _Take a risk. Your bones are not made of glass; they won’t break. Just… kiss him. Now_.

            Their lips met, her brain exploded, her soul cracked, her body collapsed, and they were kissing.

            There was something special, and precious, about the way they kissed. About the way he held on to her, like she was his most valuable possession, or the way she tasted him, like he was oxygen, and she was running out of air.

            As she let him into her mouth, she found herself unable to let go of him, immediately hooked on his lips, possibly forever. Their embrace was passionate, and lasted several minutes, filling them with lust, and leaving them breathless as they let go of each other.

            “I hoped it was you,” he breathed, his eyes were still closed, and she was still in his mouth, and her smell was everywhere.

            “Lose the mask, Adrien,” she hummed, and he obeyed right away, forgetting to ask her how she had figured him out– Right now, he didn’t care one bit.

            They were about to kiss again, when her kwami made her way between them, cranky and sleep deprived, holding out her loud phone in her little red paws. Marinette’s eyes rounded it surprise, but she took it nonetheless. “I talked myself out of flushing it in your toilets, you should thank me.”

            “Uh… thanks?”

            “You’re welcome, Marinette. I’ll be going back to sleep, now. Do you need anything?”

            “Um… well, I could introduce you Cat Noir’s civilian self, since you’re already here.”

            The little goddess’s eyes bulged in shock, as she covered her mouth with a hand, and turned around to face Adrien. “Oh my, I am so sorry! Where are my manners? Hello,” she greeted, smiling, as she extended one of her six paws towards him. She was way too small for him to give her a proper handshake, so he offered her his pinky instead, that she grabbed and shook politely. “My name’s Tikki, I’m Marinette’s kwami. I saw you land on the balcony and didn’t want to disturb you but… the phone wouldn’t stop ringing and…”

            “It’s fine,” Adrien chuckled. “I’m Adrien.”

            Tikki’s smile widened. “Oh, I know who you are. I can see everything through the fabric of Marinette’s purse,” she explained enthusiastically, before taking a look around, and stare back at him a little concerned. “Where is Plagg?”

            Adrien laughed and gestured to his hair, where the little black cat had immersed himself, after having introduced himself to Marinette.

            “Plagg!” Tikki called but was rapidly interrupted by Marinette’s ringtone. She turned around again, this time to face her owner. “Are you going to answer it?”

            “Oh, ye-yeah! R-right…” Marinette blushed before accepting the call.

            “ _About fucking time!_ ” a male voice spoke harshly in the handset. “ _I was this close to calling the police._ ”

            “M-Max?”

            “ _Yeah! Who else would it be at three o’clock in the morning?_ ”

            “I-is Felix alright?” she asked and didn’t miss Adrien stiffening at the words.

            “ _He won’t be for long. I suggest you come here ASAP before I_ actually _call the cops_. _I’m so over dealing with him._ ”

            Marinette gulped, looked up at Adrien, who suddenly seemed rather tensed, then nodded. “I-I’ll be right there.”

 

***

 

The distress in Max’s voice when he called wasn’t exaggerated–

            Felix was a mess, when Adrien and Marinette found him, seated at a table alone, with bruised eyes and blood dripping from his nostrils. He had been given some ice to ease the pain, but they both knew he had at least something broken.

            Marinette sighed, put a hand on his shoulder, and kneeled, reaching his eye-level. “Hey.”

            He glanced away. “Hey.” His voice was hoarse, probably because he had been screaming for a while, but sounded somewhat coy in his mouth.

            “What happened?” she asked.

            He looked over at Adrien, then back at her, and shook his head. “N-nothing. That’s the last time you’ll see me drink, I swear.” Marinette smiled softly. “I won’t touch it ever again.”

            “I’m glad to hear it… but, why the sudden change of mind?”

            He shrugged. “I really need to get a hold of myself.” He paused. “Until then, let me do just one last thing I will regret.”

            Marinette gave him a questioning look as he got to his feet and limped over to his brother.

            “You have no idea how I’ve always wanted to be like you, Adrien,” Felix confessed, head down, and teary eyes. “Carefree– _Wild_ – Able to speak your mind and assume yourself completely… It’s probably why you’ve always been Father’s favorite…”

            “Felix–“

            “I’m not finished,” the latter interrupted angrily, and Adrien gulped in apprehension. “I want to tell you that I would’ve never been able to gather the courage and run away or stand up to Father like you did… and still do. And I most certainly do not have the guts to forgive our mother for what she did, and I could never love or respect her, the way you still do. I envy you for that.” He chuckled, but his laugh was empty, and Adrien would talk if only he knew what to say. “I’m the big brother, yet I’m the one who looks up to you. You have everything, Adrien– And the one thing I thought I had and you didn’t,” Felix took a deep breath and glanced at Marinette, who got up instantly, looking nervous, almost frightened by his words, before quickly turning back to Adrien, “you managed to have that, too.”

            “Felix, please… You know it’s not like that…”

            It was her who spoke this time, her voice, charged with gloom and culpability and self-reproach, and she reached up to squeeze his shoulder in a reassuring way. Felix shook her hand off almost immediately, before throwing a punch that landed right on his brother’s jaw in an awful crack sound. Marinette couldn’t bite down a scream.

            When Adrien looked back at his brother, his lower lip was bleeding, and an angry fire burned in his glassy green eyes. He would’ve hit him back, if Marinette didn’t try and stop him, tugging him aside with pleading eyes, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her until he calmed down, and changed his mind. “Okay,” he promised under his breath, as she finally let go of him.

            It was Felix’s cue to provoke him again. He shoved him– Adrien fell on the table behind him. It broke under his weight. Marinette yelled again, her sole reflex, putting herself between them, but she was quickly pulled back by Max, who, with one single threatening look, forbade her to intervene.

            “Max! What are you _doing_? They are going to _kill_ each other!” she shrieked, as she tried to free herself, but the barman held her firmly.

            “You can’t go between them, _Marinette_. _You_ are going to get killed. I already called the cops.”

            The young woman stilled at once, and even though Max wanted to take it as a good sign, the panic that suddenly took over her face told him otherwise. “You can’t call the cops! It’s the best way to get the story leaked! If they don’t die at each other’s hands, then their father will be more than happy to finish the job!” She gasped. “Felix could lose _his_!”

            Max shrugged. “Well, they have to be stopped and I wanna live, so I sure as Hell won’t try and stand between them. It’s either the cops or they take their bullshit elsewhere.”

            Marinette frowned. “Max, call them back. Tell them you had it all handled and that there’s no need for any sort of backup.” He narrowed his eyes at her, still unconvinced. “ _Please_.”

            Max took a deep breath and nodded dimly. “You know I trust you, Cheng… even if you’re the queen of very questionable friendships.” She smiled blankly. “And that asshole is gonna pay for the table.”

            “I’ll make sure of it,” she assured him, before walking over to Felix and Adrien.

            The Agreste brothers were holding on to each other’s collars, staring at each other like two unleashed mad dogs. Felix looked like he wanted to do that for years– it broke Marinette’s heart.

            The latter inhaled deeply, gathering up the courage to stand between Felix’s fist and Adrien’s face, and took the punch at her boyfriend’s place. Her cheek ripped a little, drawing blood, and Felix stunned at the realization. Adrien’s rage tripled– he would bite him, if he could, strangle him, kill him for what he just did, and Felix would probably let him, at this point, but Marinette stopped him immediately, putting both her hands on his torso to shove him back.

            “Stop it! Both of you! You’re being ridiculous!” she scolded, as they looked down, blushing hard, suddenly not knowing what to do with their hands, or selves. Marinette span on her heels to face Felix, who couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head at her. She took his hand in hers. “Felix, I love you, okay? You’ll never lose me– You’re one of my _best_ friends. I can’t imagine my life without you.” She exhaled, and realized she had been holding her breath all this time. “Don’t you _dare_ think for even a second that you mean any less than that to me.”

            He didn’t say anything, tried to let go of her, but she held him firmly.

            “It’s true that I’m in love with Adrien…,” she pursued, “but it doesn’t mean that I chose him over you!”

            This time, Felix looked up at her, and he was crying– She felt her mind tear up– He never cried in front of her, before. He never cried in front of anyone. “Y-you… You’re in love… You’re in love with him?” he asked, voice breaking.

            “I–“ Words got caught in her throat. She tried again. “Ye-yes,” she said, finally letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around Adrien’s middle.

            The latter’s heart raced, as he finally dared to look at his brother. He put an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I love her too, Felix.”

            Felix opened his mouth to say something, but as he stepped back, he tripped and fell down, and his words, whatever they were, were lost forever. Marinette reached out to him immediately, but he ought to get up his own. He failed his first try, because his ankle was sprained, or something, but he still refused her help.

            “Come on… let’s get you out of here. I’ll drive you home,” she suggested, but Felix shook his head.

            “I’ll have Max call me a cab. I have… I can’t even _look_ at you, right now,” he spat, pressing a hand on the wall to keep balance.

            “Watch it!” Adrien warned him, quickly stepping between the latter and Marinette.

            “Adrien! It’s fine– It’s okay,” she whispered, pulling him back. “It’s fine… W-we… We should probably leave, anyway.” She made him turn away and urged him towards the door, before she faced Felix one last time, “Call me when you’re ready to talk it through, okay?”

            He didn’t answer, didn’t even show her that he was even listening to her, but she exited the bar anyway.

            In the car, neither Marinette nor Adrien dared to break the silence, and the former drove her boyfriend home, while their respective kwamis remained quiet in the back.

            “I could’ve just transformed, you know,” he told her, when she parked in front on the Agreste mansion.

            “Yeah, I know,” was her only response.

            A long pause. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

            “It’s fine.”

            Her voice was soft, like a murmur, and she talked like she was about to cry. He turned to face her. “It’s not fine. You’re allowed to be angry and lose it, you know. Nothing he did was okay. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have hit you.”

            “I’ve had worse,” she tried to joke, but Adrien didn’t even acknowledge it with a smile.

            She reached for his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back. “How are you so calm?”

            She shrugged. “I’m not angry. I’m not angry at neither of you.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t blame you, or Felix, for anything.” He lifted a curious eyebrow. “At the end of the day, he’s just a boy… who’s angry at his mom. A boy who was forced to grow up too quickly.”

            Adrien frowned, shook his head. “You don’t have to put up with him, you know. _I_ can’t even, sometimes. Nothing justifies you having to deal with this. Not even friendship,” he insisted.

            She looked down, bushed, then glanced back at him, and smiled slightly. “I don’t mind.”

            “How come?”

            “Because I know what it’s like to love someone so deeply that the fear of losing them leaves you physically and mentally paralyzed,” she professed, as tears ran on her cheeks.

            Adrien shifted in his seat to face her completely and took her face his both his hands. “You’re not _ever_ going to lose me, M’Lady. I swear it on my life.”

            She snorted. “I know that… _now_. Give Felix some time.” Adrien frowned. “You gave _me_ time,” she reminded him, and he was sure she wanted to add something else but he kissed her before she could.

            There were tongues, and teeth, and lips, and mouths (hers tasted like wine and mint), and skin. So, so much skin, and tears, and promises. There were hands and touching, and gasps, and moans. There was leaning in and accidental horn honking, and giggles. And God knew how long it would’ve lasted if Adrien’s fingers didn’t involuntarily pressed too harshly on Marinette’s injured cheek, making her jerk away instinctively.

            “I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, immediately straightening up, eyes round with panic. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to– _God_ , I’m such an idiot…” he scolded himself, and Marinette smiled gently, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

            “You’re always so hard on yourself, but always so patient with other people.” He glanced up at her. “You’re allowed to fuck up once in a while, you know.”

            He scoffed. “Yeah, but I fuck up _all the time_.”

            “If it were true, I wouldn’t be here, now, would I?” she asked, as she hooked her hands behind his neck and pulled him towards her to kiss him again.

            “How’d you know it was me?” he asked between kisses. He felt her smile against his mouth.

            “Blond? Green eyes? Drop-dead gorgeous, yet terribly insecure?” she began to describe, as her lips traced the line of his jaw. “A rebel who wears his heart on his sleeve, who is not afraid to speak his mind and chases after what he wants? You’re kind of one of a kind, kitten.”

            He chuckled. “You think I’m drop-dead gorgeous?”

            She snickered and lifted her head to look at him– His lip was wounded and his chin was bruised, but it was nothing serious– Felix was in way worse shape. “As if you didn’t know, Model-Boy. Now, shoo! Get out of here before I change my mind and decide to kidnap you... Or before your kwami decides to kill us.”

            Adrien laughed. “I think I wouldn’t mind the first option.” He grabbed the door handle and Plagg took it as a cue to dive into his owner’s hair, for a free ride. “I’ll uh… call you?”

            “You better,” she replied, before restarting the car.

            “I definitely will, then,” he assured her, as he got out.

            She watched him walk past the wrought iron gates of the mansion, then into his house, before driving away, a wide smile on her lips.

            _There._

_I did it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dieu qu'elle était belle, Patrick Fiori](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93W0DtLu2vo)
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> [Dieu qu'elle était belle English translation](https://lyricstranslate.com/en/dieu-quelle-%C3%A9tait-belle-god-she-was-beautiful.html)


	12. Sink or swim

_Angelina_ café at Haussmann Boulevard was Lily Dévereux’s favorite place for a perfect Saturday morning brunch. The waiters were polite and didn’t smile too much, the pastries were delicious, and the hot chocolate was simply exquisite. The customers were all suited up, the ladies wearing pearls and gloves, taking off their big hats and dark shades the instant they walked in, and the men pairing white dress shirts with double-breasted jackets and brand new, nicely cut trousers.

            Lily Dévereux married her husband when she was just nineteen years old and has regretted her decision ever since. She didn’t have children and constantly alternated between life in the city and life in the suburbs, spending the first half of her week in her duplex in Versailles and the second half here, in Paris. She had money to spend, time to spare and lovers to entertain– Her life consisted of a series of grandiose moments, elegant parties and extravagant charity events, separated by red carpet appearances and shopping breaks at Vendome, Faubourg Saint-Honoré and all across la rue de la Paix. She wore Louboutin, Cartier watches and diamond necklaces, and, at forty-three years old, she was the definition of a femme fatale– the men around her often couldn’t resist the charms of a tall, vigorous brunette with such a pretty face.

            “Lily Dévereux?” a woman’s voice asked that made her look away from the newspaper she was reading. “Hi,” the former sighed softly, handing out a friendly hand that Lily hesitated to shake. The woman was blonde and beautiful, very smiley, and her green eyes seemed to sparkle. She was older, Lily was quick to notice, but didn’t bother hiding her wrinkles or concealing her tired skin. The dark-haired lady pouted and lifted a curious eyebrow in the other’s direction, but it wasn’t enough to wipe off the latter’s grin. “We talked on the phone? My name is Emilie.”

            Lily’s eyes and mouth rounded in surprise and she gestured to the empty seat in front of her. “Emilie Agreste, yes– Yes, I remember… Would you like anything to eat, or drink?” she asked, mechanically lifting a hand up to call a waiter.

            Emilie tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and blushed softly. “I already ordered some coffee and a Mont-Blanc, I hope you don’t mind.”

            “It’s an excellent choice. The Mont-Blanc is their specialty,” Lily remarked, before shamelessly, and without any explanation, sending the waiter away.

            Emilie nodded. “I heard.”

            “Are you back in town for good?” Longshadow’s granddaughter was bold enough to ask, and she still expected an answer despite noting Emilie’s obvious discomfort.

            “Ah… I’m not sure, yet. I have been staying with a friend for the past couple of weeks… But, that’s not why I’m here– I…”

            “I know why you’re here,” Lily interrupted, and her fair face suddenly didn’t match the harshness of her tone. “You’re one of those bitches that fucked with my grandpa’s head and want money to keep quiet.” She snorted. “Just how sick must you all be to come and find me after his death, and strip me off millions of euros that I have no other choice but to give up in order to avoid another scandal? Huh?” She sneered, rolled her eyes, but still managed to remain the incarnation of chicness and elegance. “So?” she asked, leaning towards a very stunned Emilie, “how much do you want to keep that dick-sucking mouth of yours shut?”

            Emilie blinked at the insult, but tried to act natural when the waiter came over with her tea and pastry. “I-I– It appears as if you misunderstood me, Mrs. Dévereux…” she managed to choke out, her face hot. “I-I’m not here for m-money, I–“ she cleared her throat, “I simply heard that you were selling your grandfather’s possessions. I’m here as a buyer.”

            It was Lily’s turn to be bewildered. “A b-buyer?”

            Emilie smiled dreamily and glanced away, instantly fueling the dark-haired woman’s curiosity. “You see, when your grandfather and I met a few years ago, we bonded over a brooch he was wearing,” she lied very easily. She looked up at Lily, who was staring at her with big, prying eyes. “It had the shape of a peacock.” She chuckled, giving the impression of reliving the memory, and Lily smiled instinctively. “Call me a hopeless romantic but I… I mean, if you have no intention of keeping it, of course, I would really like to buy it.”

            Emilie Agreste wasn’t always a con artist, but she had to learn how to become one, after her husband Gabriel introduced her to this empty world made of gloss and glam and diamonds, before it managed to eat her alive. In this world, everybody lied, everybody scammed and everybody schemed. Up close, the whole scenery looked like a giant game of make-belief where only prevailed the survival of the fittest.

            Emilie was so beautiful and charismatic, it was easy for people to believe her. Her smiles seemed sincere and her allure, humble, but, in reality, every blush, every twitch of her mouth, every gesture, was carefully studied beforehand. She rehearsed her words before speaking them, twisted her sentences in a way that generated a _quiproquo_ that would put her interlocutor in a delicate situation, and used her vulnerability to her advantage.

            It was so easy to act heartbroken and fragile, so easy to appear naïve. People like Lily needed to feel powerful and in command, they had to feel superior, and Emilie knew just how to boost their ego to manipulate them, almost effortlessly.

            “Listen, Mrs. Dévereux. You know who I am, you know who my husband is, and you can think of me whatever you like, but I truly was in love with your grandfather.” This wasn’t a lie, Emilie had to admit, but she purposely left out the part where she described William Longshadow as a shallow, heartless womanizer that seduced and manipulated her, only to abandon her in an empty hotel room in Vienna. “I left Paris and we decided to run away to Vienna together.” She sighed. “But sometimes, people go their different ways and… well, we did.” She paused– He stole her most prized possessions and abandoned her. “William freed me.” Quite the opposite, actually. “He made me discover a part of me that I was too scared to assume completely.” A part that wanted revenge and fire, and death. “For that, I will always love him.” She hated him, and the only reason she wasn’t pleased with the news of his death was that she wanted to kill him herself. “I– I learned only recently that he passed away.” Audrey told her– Audrey always advised her not to get involved with the man and she never listened. At the time, she was but a lovesick moron that let her emotions and feelings smother her logical instincts. “I wish I was here, I wish I was there for you and your family– _however_ you might need me.” A lie. She wished she was there, yes, but only to spit on his corpse. “But I wasn’t, and for that, I am deeply sorry.” She really was, but probably not for the right reasons.

            A minute of silence elapsed and Emilie dared to put her hand on Lily’s. The latter let her with tears in her eyes and trembling lips, and tried to smile.

            “Thank you. I– I really needed to hear that,” the dark-haired woman whispered.

            They remained quiet for another minute, Emilie awkwardly sipping on her black coffee and nibbling at her dessert, while Lily was lost in thoughts.

            Lily’s parents died in a car crash when she was barely seven years old– She was raised by her grandfather and loved him more than anything else in the world. So, when very few people showed up at the funeral and strange women began demanding money from her, she found herself in a bad place. She never realized just how much she needed the kind words of Emilie.

            “He died from a heart attack. It’s so… cliché,” she said. She took a deep breath, before leaning back in her chair. Emilie gave her a sad smile. “I know the brooch you are talking about,” Emilie’s green eyes brightened at this, “but I don’t have it anymore, unfortunately.”

            The blond woman’s shoulders dropped but she seemed like she tried her best to hide her disappointment. “Oh, well… I guess I _am_ too late, after all. It’s so frustrating, really,” she added. “I really hoped you still had it.”

            “I could maybe try and find out who bought it?” Lily suggested.

            Emilie sought to look surprised. “Really? You’d do that?”

            “Of course,” Lily assured her. “You are the first person that came to me telling me good things about my grandfather. You have no idea what this all means to me. It’s the least I can do.”

 

***

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…” Nino huffed, rolling his eyes so hard, Trixx heard them like wrecking balls on a construction site.

            “Of course I know what I’m talking about,” the kwami shot back, crossing her tiny paws over her white-furred stomach, “I’ve been around humans for millennia, might I remind you?”

            Nino shook his head and scoffed. “Yeah, you’ve been _around_ them. You’ve never _been_ one. Ergo, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s like simple math.”

            “And you’ve been one for… what? Twenty-four years?” Trixx snickered. “How is anything you say even relevant, at this point? You don’t _know_ anything. To me, you’re barely a baby, in its diapers, who’s just learning how to walk. I can’t even take you seriously.”

            Nino tried to keep his frown as he threw a pillow at the little floating fox. The latter dodged it easily.

            “See? You still let your emotions dictate your actions. _This_ is why you always lose to _me_.”

            Nino ignored her and chose to focus on his food instead.

            “They were on a _break_ ,” Trixx grunted, as she flew over to him and ate the bite of noodles he was about to put in his mouth. “You didn’t deserve it,” was her only explanation when Nino let out a disapprobative “Hey!”

            “Even if they _were_ broken up, it doesn’t make it alright to sleep with the first hot girl to show up,” Nino argued, before Trixx decided to interpret his silence as a sign of forfeit.

            “He only did so because he thought Rachel was sleeping with Mark,” Trixx reminded him. “She knew how Ross felt about the guy, yet she still agreed to go on a date with him. It was a pretty bitchy move, if you ask me.”

            “It wasn’t a _date_. Mark was her friend. Is she not allowed to have _friends_?”

            Trixx pouted and lifted both her eyebrows at him. “If Alya were to ask you to stop seeing a certain person because your relationship with them made her feel insecure and jealous, would you do it?” the kwami asked, quite proud of her analogy.

            Nino shrugged. “Well, yeah, but… it’s not– It’s not the _same_!”

            “Why not?” Trixx shook her head. “In a couple, you must always pay attention to your partner’s needs and feelings, however they are expressed– Sometimes, the latters tend to be too embarrassing to admit verbally. But it doesn’t mean that Ross didn’t make it clear that he didn’t like Rachel and Mark’s relationship.” She paused. “Rachel not only hurt him by breaking up with him, but also by disregarding his uncertainties vis-à-vis the whole thing and then by letting him know, voluntarily or not, that she was with Mark, and that they were alone. At night. In her _apartment_. Having dinner. Like a _date_.” She paused again and gave Nino time to contest, if he wanted to. He didn’t, so she pursued, “men are not the only ones to take advantage of confused, vulnerable women, you know. Girls can be tricky, too.” She shrugged. “We just always manage to blame the guy somehow.”

            As she finished, Nino’s eyes were round with stupefaction. “Damn, you _have_ been around us for that many years.”

            Trixx rolled her eyes at him. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” she exclaimed, tugging on her pointy ears. She placed her front paws on her hips and glared at him. “You’re all so selfish and predictable, only thinking about how the world is hurting _you_ without ever stopping to think about how _you_ are hurting _it_.”

            “Alright, _fine_ ,” Nino admitted with a pout. “But don’t forget that Rachel getting a new job did put her under a lot of pressure– I mean, she was finally doing something she liked… like… If I was in her place– and _believe me_ , I was– I, too, would’ve been terrified of screwing up and losing everything,” he reasoned calmly. “Succeeding in your career demands hard work and is seriously time-consuming. When I opened up the _Nargiz_ , Alya and I literally lived through Hell. And before that, when she was still a freshly graduated journalist, we straight-up _broke up_. We still managed to remain faithful to each other, though.” He sighed, shaking off the bitterness of the memory. “Ross wasn’t really acting very supportive– He was always accusing her of canceling dates and coming home late, which only added to the amount of stress she was already living under. Mark was the only one that seemed to understand her– of course, she needed him.”

            “Yeah, ‘cause when your boyfriend’s being a jerk, you go around complaining about him instead of _communicating_ with him. That way, he’ll be sure to have zero idea about what he’s doing wrong, and thus, all the things that aren’t working in your relationship will just… keep on– Well, not working…” Trixx mocked. “Your logic is flawed. Save us time and admit you’re wrong.” Nino was about to say something, when she cut him off, “besides, Ross has been more than supportive…” Nino let out a derisive scoff. She ignored him. “I’m sure if Rachel took the time to talk about her work experiences, he would’ve been truly interested. But all she does talk about was how Mark makes the workplace all more enjoyable– How Mark is really goofy and funny, and how she really loves talking with him about fashion for hours, and _hours_ , _and hours…_ Of _course_ , he’d get jealous and burst out _eventually_!”

            “But he still hurt her. She shouldn’t have to forgive him or be with him, if she doesn’t want to.”

            “Don’t put words in my mouth,” Trixx replied, creasing her nose. “All I’m saying is that she’s wrong to blame him for the failure of their relationship. _She_ broke up with him because _she_ was running away from her own problems. Then, _she_ refused to face the consequences. Besides, I’ve always been one to believe that fighting is not a good enough reason to break up with someone.”

            “What?” Nino shrieked. “Of course it is! If you find yourself in a toxic relationship, you need to leave it! ASAP!”

            “Will you let me finish?” Nino closed his mouth, paused, and then nodded. “Abusive relationships, incompatibilities, or simply falling out of love are all… _adequate_ , let’s say, reasons to break up. But fighting is usually the result of miscommunication.” Trixx sighed. “Ever since the invention of language, you humans have been nearly terrified of words.”

            Nino took in a sharp breath. “Deep.”

            “You surely meant ‘sly like a fox,’” Trixx winked, and Nino drew out a finger to pet the kwami on the head, making her giggle.

            “Okay, yeah, fine, I see your point,” he finally acknowledged. “I’m still #team Rachel, though…”

            Trixx rolled her eyes. “Of course, you are. If there’s only one thing that humans fear even more than honest communication, it is, indubitably, to admit they’re wrong.”

            “That’s not fair. It’s not because I don’t agree with you, that I’m wrong,” Nino maintained, smirking. “I’m entitled to have my own opinions.”

            “Disagreeing with me is exactly the _definition_ of being wrong!” Trixx whined, placing a paw on her forehead in an overly dramatic pause. “It’s not your fault. It’s simply beyond your understanding.”

            “Now, you’re just being silly, and a _little_ biased,” he grinned.

            “Hey, guys! I’m _home_!” Alya’s voice happily called out, as she unlocked the front door and slid into the apartment.

            Nino straightened up a bit and watched her dispose of her coat, shoes and shopping bags on the floor, before she walked towards the couch and took place between his legs, snuggling against his chest. He kissed her crown and wrapped his arms around her, as Trixx flew over to hug her shoulder. “How was it?” he asked.

            “It was nice,” she hummed, eyes closed, rubbing her cheek against his shirt, loving their intimacy. “Hey, little fox-shaped kwami, reason that I can transform into Rena Rouge and fight crime, how are you?” she chuckled, petting the little goddess’ back.

            “I just had a very interesting conversation with Nino.”

            One of Alya’s eyebrows quirked up and she smirked to no one in particular. “Really, now? What was it about?”

            “It was about the difficulties of overcoming communication struggles as your relationship is going through a rough patch,” Nino answered, before Trixx even had a chance to.

            Alya lifted herself up on her elbows to glare at him, making the kwami lose balance– Trixx opted to land on Nino’s head and stayed there. “Seriously?” Alya said, biting her upper lip to keep herself from laughing out loud. “Again with that? They end up together, anyway… Why are you still so hooked up on this?”

            Nino pouted, as Trixx snickered discretely, smothering her giggles in his dreadlocks– It was quite difficult for Alya to maintain a straight face after that. “It’s a key moment of their relationship, okay?” Nino grumbled, blushing a little.

            “I think the key moment of their relationship is when they had Emma. Remember her? Their _daughter_?” Alya cheerily nagged him, before she curled herself up in his arms again. “You should really try out other shows, though. Why are you so obsessed with _Friends_ , anyway?”

            “Hey, you knew it was bound to happen the instant it was on Netflix. Besides, it’s always better than being a fan of _Gossip Girl_. I mean, seriously, what is up with _that_?” he teased her, earning a pinch in the arm.

            “Chuck Bass is _hot_ , m’kay?”

            Nino shrugged, clicked his tongue, and decided to change the subject– He didn’t really like it when Alya talked about how hot other guys were. His eyes drifted on the shopping bags she left at the door. “What’d you buy?”

            Alya chuckled softly. “We went to Chantal Thomass to get some stuff for Marinette’s first _official_ date with Adrien next week.”

            “Ooh-ho…” Nino whistled. “Well, that, at least, cleans up any doubt he might have had!”

            “The girl knows what she wants. Plus, I’ve never heard anyone complain about owning too much lingerie…”

            Nino smirked. “Did you get anything?”

            Alya hummed in approbation, as he squeezed her harder against him. “Maybe…”

            “When am I going to see it?”

            She giggled softly. “How about tonight after patrol?”

            “It is a date, Missy,” he agreed.

            Trixx was watching the exchange quietly, messing with Nino’s hair. “We also ordered some Chinese takeout, not too long ago,” she said, playing with the dread beads she chose for him and spent all morning scattering across his tresses. “There are some leftovers for you in the microwave.”

            “With extra beansprout?” Alya wondered.

            “Duh,” her kwami assured her.

           

***

 

_Dear Mr. Agreste,_

_We are sorry to inform you that your application to join Federico Romano’s team has not been selected. Notwithstanding, your C.V. remains quite an impressive piece and we wish you the best for the following of your career._

_Thank you for taking an interest in our company,_

_Sincerely,_

_Cécile Forestier, HR Director._

 

Felix sighed, shaking away the words that somehow got stuck inside his mind, and poured himself a harmless cup of water, before rejoining the circle at the center of the room.

            Every Saturday at 7 o’clock in the evening, _Les Halles de Belleville_ in the twentieth district hosted an A.A. meeting, where everyone was welcome, but, as he sat in the middle of his new circle of ‘friends,’ as they called themselves, he felt more out of place than ever.

            He glanced down at the bandages around his hands and remembered the look on the doctor’s face when he told her how he broke his knuckles and bruised his face– It was enough to convince him to get out of his apartment and drive to 126, Belleville Boulevard. He didn’t say much, of course, having a sense of politeness and etiquette, rather blamed it all on the alcohol, and she just wrote down this address for him and advised him to check it out, before showing him her two-years-sober coin that she kept with her at all times.

            “It always starts with a beer,” a man wearing joggings and a hoodie said. “And I’m like… Well, _one_ beer can’t hurt, right? But then, I end up walking naked into a Burger King and waking up a few hours later in a police station in clothes that aren’t mine because I was arrested for being drunk and disorderly in a public place, and public indecency. The problem is, I don’t remember any of that…”

            Felix glanced away and looked through the window. If he stared long enough, he might see flying the silhouettes of Ladybug and Cat Noir patrolling the city– They had their own rubric now, in the _Figaro_. It was a good read, he had to admit. Alya was full of resources and a talented writer.

            When he came back to reality, the man was still talking. He bit his inner cheeks to keep in a sigh– No one was allowed to interrupt a fellow ‘friend.’

            “…my friends and family think it’s because of my job. They say it’s too stressful and that I should quit. And I must admit that France’s allocation systems are more than generous with the unemployed people but… I know that’s not it. I love my job. I don’t want to quit…”

            Felix zoned out again. _Maybe if you changed your itinerary and find another way to get home, then you won’t have to walk past that drug store every day and be tempted by their promotions on beers and other alcohols_ , he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

            He had already talked too much, tonight. He had stood up, had said, “Hi, I’m Felix, and I’m an alcoholic,” had sat back down, had been greeted by the rest of the people that were present here tonight, then, he had remained quiet during the whole thing, shifting nervously in his seat, getting up at regular time intervals, and playing with his fingers because taking out your phone right now would simply be rude and discourteous.

            “…I don’t know what is wrong with me… I mean, I know _what_ is wrong with me, obviously, because I’m here with you guys…” he laughed, and everyone except for Felix laughed with him, “…but I just don’t know how to fix it.”

            “This is exactly why we are here for you, Phillip,” the person who endorsed the role of ‘trusted servant’ said, smiling, and gently squeezing Phillip’s arm.

            She was an Asian woman with dark hair and blue eyes and a very soft voice, it always seemed as if she was whispering. She seemed kind and trustworthy. She was the first one to welcome Felix in here, tonight.

            She glanced at the assistance. “Does anyone wish to add anything?” she asked, instinctively locking gazes with Felix, who looked down, but no one seemed eager to speak. “Okay, then, I think it’s all for today,” she announced, grasping the hands of Phillip and another blond woman who was sitting next to her.

            When everyone followed her example, Felix forced himself to do the same. She closed her eyes.

            “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,” she recited calmly. Immediately, everyone repeated after her, and Felix felt bad for not knowing the words or having even heard of them before. “Well, then, thank you, everyone, for coming. I hoped you enjoyed tonight as much as I did.” She smiled, and got up, and quickly afterward, people were helping her clean up the place.

            Felix thought he might be useful and decided to fold some more chairs and put them against the wall. He also helped with the plastic cups and plates, and put back what was left of the food in Tupperwares, when he was joined by the organizer. “H-hello… It was Felix, right?” she asked him, smiling brightly, and the blond man tried to smile back.

            “Yes,” he answered simply.

            “I noticed you haven’t talked much, tonight.” He glanced at her, a little uncomfortable. There weren’t many people left– Most of them took off something like a dozen minutes ago. “There’s no pressure, of course,” she assured him, shoving her hands in her pockets, “but you’ll come to realize that it’s often better to share than not.” He nodded. “Are you thinking of coming back?”

            _Absolutely not. This place is awful and the people are all dreadful morons_. “I-I think so. I enjoyed the meeting… it was quite… peculiar.”

            She chuckled. Instantly, he wanted to make her laugh more but realized with horror that he didn’t know how to do that. “I’m glad you thought so. You know, we’re a small group, but we’re tight. We help and we’re here for each other.”

            “Yes, I saw. And I… I mean, I could seriously use it.”

            “There’s no shame in admitting that,” she maintained. “It’s even the first step of the healing process. But you’ll see, you’ll have fun. Some of us have the craziest stories.”

            “Really? What kind of crazy stories?”

            “Ah…” she breathed, before closing up her mouth and pretending to lock it with an invisible key. “You’ll see if you keep on coming.”

            “Well, now, you have me intrigued. I’ll definitely come back, then,” he said, not sure himself if it was a lie or not.

            She smiled. “I won’t hold you longer, then,” she told him, bowing graciously, in an élan of enthusiasm, making him laugh. “My name is Bridgette, by the way, I’m not sure I’ve mentioned it.”

            Felix shook his head. “No, you haven’t. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            “You too, Felix. I really hope we see each other again,” she expressed, before shooting him one last dangerous smile and joining other people that were regrouping near the window, leaving Felix blushing and rather confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sink or Swim, Falling in Reverse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wu1ZkgN60m0)
> 
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> I know, I know! We're here for all the adrienette/ladynoir moments-  
> Sorry -//3//- but I had to cut out some pages so the chapter wouldn't be too long or too heavy... Besides, next chapter will be sure to make up for it... I _paw_ -mise ( ͡° ͜V ͡°)  
> On that note, I hoped you enjoyed!


	13. The Peafowl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH! Organic chemistry is going to be the death of me, I swear to God... I hate exams period...  
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter that helped survive never-ending, _mind-numbing_ hours of studying-

Word has gotten out that Gabriel Agreste’s fourth peacock-themed dress will be revealed on the 21st of December at the Palace of Tokyo, as the keystone of his _Black is the new black_ event. Tickets were already sold out months ago and everyone at _Agreste Designs_ was progressively losing their minds.

            Adrien was practically brought up on hectic schedules and therefore learned how to cope with stress at a very young age. He was taught to appreciate the real meanings of breathing and meditation, and ‘coffee-break’ had successfully made it into the top 3 of his most favorite French terms, after ‘bluebell eyes’ and ‘polka dots.’

            When Vincent decided to give his crew a little ten-minute break, Adrien presented Marinette with a cup of coffee, then casually guided her into his personal dressing-room, to get a little peace from this all-too-familiar anarchic fashion mess.

            “Take off your pants,” she said, as she closed the door behind her.

            Adrien blinked, a little surprised. Okay, he thought, now, the list was in an urgent need of a last-minute alteration. “You, first,” he teased her. She blushed instantly.

            “Come on,” she breathed, “you know I didn’t mean it like _that_.”

            “I know,” he smirked and proceeded to look up and down at her, scanning her from head to toe– She was wearing a white high collar ruffle blouse paired with a black form-fitting three-piece suit and her signature shiny stilettos– An outfit she had fashioned a couple months ago and that inspired a few of Gabriel’s newest designs.

             “Oh, fuck off,” Marinette scolded him, folding her arms over her chest and glancing away. He snickered, enjoying her coyness way too much to her liking. She rolled her eyes at him. “Wanna play it like that?” she cooed, as she seized him by the waist and yanked his belt off herself. He shut up immediately.

            She maintained eye contact as she unbuttoned his slacks and took her time unzipping him, relishing the mess she was making out of him. She shot him a rather dangerous smile before tugging on his pants and making them slowly slide on his legs.

            When she straightened back up, Adrien was bright red and he wasn’t blinking. His eyes were focused on a spot behind her and he looked like he was trying really hard to keep composure, but the plastic cup he was holding was now extremely crushed in his fist and his lower lip was trembling. “If you wanna talk the talk, you gotta up your game,” she whispered, as she lifted herself up onto her toes and kissed him.

            It was a short kiss, too quick for him to realize what was happening and gather the strength to return it, but it was enough to unfreeze him.

            He shook his head and frowned, taking his boots off to remove his pants, when Marinette urged him to put them back on afterward. His right eyebrow quirked up in curiosity– She simply shrugged. “It gives it a little edgy side,” she said.

            “You’re the designer.”

            Adrien was wearing long white Agreste boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination– but Marinette was a professional– She’s worked with half-naked gorgeous specimen for years before that, and had been in love with a guy that liked to parade around the city in a very constricting leather gear since her late teenage years, for fuck’s sake. “Remove the shirt too,” she instructed, rubbing two fingers against her left temple while trying to visualize the whole thing.

            “The shirt, too? You sure?” he asked.

            She nodded, then waited for him to strip off his black shirt, before making him put the suit jacket back on. It was designed to be oversized but Adrien’s figure just couldn’t pull off relaxed-legged trousers and turtleneck shirts– He was more the high-waisted or skinny jeans kind of guy. Besides, corduroy looked simply ridiculous on him.

            She grabbed his black tie on the table and tied it carefully around his bare neck, before laying her hands on his naked chest and spreading her fingers on his warm skin– She always imagined how Cat Noir’s skin would feel like under her own, and she had to admit that the feeling was quite pleasing. She looked up at him and saw that he had his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation as well, so she continued to knead and rub where she was touching.

            Her hands slid up his neck, then to his hair, that she ruffled frenetically, undoing, in just a few seconds, hours Adrien had spent in front of his mirror before leaving the Agreste mansion this morning– she preferred the careless and messy look on him, anyway. His eyes flew open at that and he let out something that resembled an annoyed growl, but she quickly pulled him down for another kiss before he could say anything.

            He was quicker to react this time and rapidly took control of their embrace, grasping her at the waist and pressing her against him, using his tongue to open her mouth wider, and diving in, melting into her, taking her breath away. He picked her up easily and laid her on his dressing table, pinning her against the mirror and kissing her, _finally_ , like he always dreamt of kissing her.

            He knew they couldn’t really do anything right now though, because _one_ , he was expected on set in any minute now, _two_ , there were way too many people outside, and _three_ , because anyone could walk in at any given moment. “How’s that, M’Lady?” he said, nipping at her lips, as his fingers continued to wrestle with the numerous layers she was wearing, desperately looking for flesh, and warmth and softness– He ended up giving up after a couple more failed attempts and just proceeded to cup her breasts over her shirt, making her sigh into his mouth.

            Her eyes were dark and her pupils dilated, full with lust and desire and energy, when he straightened up to stare at her, her lips, red and swollen, and her lipstick all over her chin and cheeks– and probably all over his face as well. She was panting slightly, her mouth was dry, and her nails dug deep into his skin, as her knees held him in place. Hunger and starvation, suddenly, was a beautiful look on her. “Not bad at all, kitten,” she gasped, reluctantly letting go of him.

            There was a knock on Adrien’s door– Vincent’s timing couldn’t be more perfect.

            Marinette immediately climbed off the table, putting some distance between her and her boyfriend, before they let the director slash photographer in.

            “Am I… interrupting anything?” he asked, awkwardly gesturing to the both of them.

            Adrien shrugged, shoving his hands in his jacket’s pockets, “well…”

            Marinette nudged him on the arm for that and turned towards Vincent to face him completely. “It’s nothing, really. I was just re-styling Adrien’s attire for the second part of the photo shoot.”

            The photographer lifted an eyebrow at her. “Yes, I can see that. Half of his clothes are gone…”

            “Well, he looked awful in them, anyway,” she countered, and at that, Vincent couldn’t but agree, to Adrien’s most uttered outrage– he was ignored by both his girlfriend and his photographer. “Besides, we are shooting the new Agreste lipstick shade ad today, so overdressing only seems futile at this point.”

            Vincent nodded, rubbing his chin. “The whole concept is a little far-fetched, if you ask me– I mean, sure, the black color is like the mother of fashion but… Dedicating a whole line to it? I think good ol’ Gabe really overdid it, this time.”

            Marinette let out a soft chuckle and Adrien was sure his girlfriend was blushing. “Actually, Mr. Agreste and I agreed on changing the name of the collection.”

            “Oh, _really_?” Vincent wondered, leaning against the doorframe of Adrien’s dressing room, and his smile widened, his dark eyes sparkling, pleasantly intrigued, practically pleading her to keep going.

            She glanced at Adrien as she pronounced her next words, “well, we decided to call it _Noir is the new black_.” And this was when Adrien’s brain broke. “You might have noticed some very discrete clothe alterations– It’s still very _casual chic_ , like Mr. Agreste intended to, but the boots, the leather elbow patches,” she said, gesturing to Adrien’s suit jacket, “and the accessories, all add a little grunge and alternative look to the brand, that, I think, will match the design of _The Peafowl_ perfectly.”

            Vincent clicked his tongue appreciatively. “I like it. I like a lot, Ms. Cheng. Is this a reflection to the _Cat Noir_?”

            She shrugged, giggling. “Sure, I mean, you can think of it this way. I believe any designer would agree with me when I say that his suit is the perfect example of a fashion miracle.”

            “I must admit, Ms. Cheng, you make quite an impressive argument,” he complimented her. “Adrien, we’re ready for you.”

            “Y-yeah… Would you uh… give me a second? Please?”

            Vincent nodded and left. Adrien caught Marinette’s hand in his and made her face him. “What is it?” she asked, wide-eyed, and he just wanted to kiss her and wipe all this worry off her face.

            “Why did you–“ His voice was like a broken whisper, and quickly died on his tongue. He decided to try again, but words refused to come out.

            _Because she loves you, you moronic idiot._

            “Yes?” Marinette looked rather nervous, but waited still. He grabbed her around her middle and pulled her closer.

            He shook his head and smiled shyly. “I love you. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I’m just– so _in love_ with you.”

            Her face softened and she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks. “I’m _so_ in love with you, too,” she said. “Like over the moon in love with you.” He chuckled and kissed her lightly, before intertwining his fingers with hers and joining Vincent on the set together.

 

***

 

 _The Bald Soprano_ by E. Ionesco was played every Thursdays and Fridays au _Théatre de la Huchette_ , since 1957. Felix had read the play before, but had never really had the time, nor the energy, to actually see it performed on stage. As he walked toward the cashier and asked for a single ticket, the old woman behind the glass smiled at him gently.

            “Full prize?” He nodded. “22,95€. Thank you. The play will start soon– why don’t you go stand by the entrance? You’ll be sure to get a good place if you’re among the firsts to enter.”

            He thanked her quietly and followed her advice– only to regret it the instant he saw a familiar cascade of raven hair in front of him.

            His heart skipped a beat and he ducked his face into his collar, looking down instinctively, to minimize the chances of being recognized.

            He still wasn’t ready to face Marinette– she had been calling all week, and he had successfully managed to ignore it each time.

            He could still leave, right now, and no one would know, he told himself.

            He could leave, and go home, try to get some sleep, or just wait idly in bed for the morning to come. Either way, it still was better than seeing or talking to Marinette, or even thinking about her, because, each time he did, his brain was fatally reminded of the painful, horrible truth that she chose his brother over him.

            He would wake up tomorrow, or next week even, and come back then– the play wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. If he left now, he could still catch a bus home and won’t have to take the subway.

            “Felix! Is that you?”

            _Shit_.

            He forced himself to look up, only to be pleasantly surprised to find Bridgette’s face glancing back at him, instead of Marinette’s. Her eyes weren’t as striking as his friend’s, definitely more gray than blue, and she was paler, her hair, longer and darker. She was smaller, too, and a little chubbier than Marinette, in a way that accentuated the curves of her body. Also, she dressed more casually, whereas Marinette would never dream of being caught dead in a pair of jeans, or wearing mittens for that matter.

            “I’m Bridgette… F-from uh… last Saturday?” she tried when he didn’t seem to recognize her.

            He realized then that he was staring at her and hasn’t spoken yet, so he forced a couple words out of his mouth. “Y-yeah! Yes, I know. Of course, I remember y-you… W-what are you doing here?”

            She held up her ticket as an answer.

            _Right. She was here to see the play. Of course. You dumbass._ “So… a-are you here alone?” _Dumb question– Such a dumb question. What was it with him, all of a sudden?_

            She smiled nonetheless. “Yes, actually. My friends are boring– They didn’t want to come with me. I eventually got tired of nagging them. What about you?”

            “I-m… a little short on friends, lately,” he admitted with a wince.

            She shrugged. “Or you just need better ones.”

            Felix let it slide because Bridgette obviously didn’t know what she was talking about– If she’d met Marinette, he was sure she wouldn’t be talking this way about her. Marinette was an incredible friend– he was the jerk to blame– and that was simply common knowledge.

            “Perfect timing– I feel like being a friend, tonight,” she said, grabbing him by the elbow– he jumped, startled by her boldness, but chose to remain silent. “Wanna sit together?”

            “Uh… s-sure,” he nodded, because there was no other polite answer to give.

            The play held up to Felix’s expectations– The actors were all extremely talented, the setting corresponded to Ionesco’s descriptions, and one could tell the directing had been carefully studied.

            Felix’s favorite forms of literature were poetry and theatre, and the _Theatre of the Absurd_ perfectly translated the essence of a destroyed post-World War II world, when human existence imploded altogether, leaving no place to Faith, meaning, or purpose, and breaking down every form of communication.

            The 20th century was a time of rupture whether for the novel, poetry or theater. In fact, authors began challenging the profound nature of the theatre, which is to create the illusion of a real world, after Samuel Beckett revolutionized the art of theatrical performance, staging his plays in well-lit, freezing rooms and receiving his audience on uncomfortable chairs.

            In the early part of the 20th century, mythological inspiration prevailed in many plays such as _La Guerre de Troie n’aura pas lieu_ (“The Trojan War Will Not Take Place”), by J. Giraudoux, 1935, which is a reflection to World War II, and _Antigone_ , by Anouilh, 1944, which became the voice of the French Resistance. However, the aftermath of the war, the Holocaust, Hiroshima and the Cold War all highlighted the horror of Man’s capability. Deprived of God and confronted to the wreck of humanity, Man appears condemned to an empty and senseless existence. At the dawn of the 50s and 60s, the only certainty that remained was that of death.

            Felix remembered having written a paper about it, before his father dissuaded him from pursuing a career in Literature– He still couldn’t help but find the subject terribly fascinating, though.

            Sitting next to Bridgette, however, was a bit… trying.

            Well, first of all, Bridgette was a very touchy person– This was something that Felix never truly understood– _Just keep your damn hands to yourself, for fuck’s sake_ – and didn’t hesitate to grab his hand, or squeeze his fingers, when she felt like it. She didn’t keep herself from resting her head against his shoulder either, which was simply disturbing, and made Felix still altogether– She acted like she hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t quite a displeasing feeling _per se_ , it was just very new to him.

            “I know a nice Lebanese place right at the end of the street. They make amazing Manakish– What do you think?”

            He was still trying to come up with a reason to leave, when she got tired of waiting for an answer and simply grasped his hand, cheekily interlacing their fingers together, proceeding to make him blush profusely, before dragging him along with her. He complied grudgingly.

            She was right, though. The food _was_ delicious– That, or his body was just thrilled at the idea of eating something other than pasta, instant noodles, and canned food.

            Bridgette was pretty enough, Felix noticed, when they settled on a bench to eat their sandwiches. Her face was proportioned and her clothes made look pretty comfortable. Also, she didn’t wear makeup or any appearing jewelry, and, oddly enough, it only made more attractive.

            As they talked, he noted that she smiled easily and that she had absolutely no restrains– she spoke her mind without thinking sometimes, careless about offending people. She was genuine and loud, and her laugh was just ridiculous, but she made it seem so warm and lively, rendering it completely contagious.

            She just looked extremely happy and Felix didn’t know how someone like her ended up at an A.A. meeting– it didn’t seem appropriate to ask her, so he remained quiet, and listened to her talk about her jobs and life.

            She was a waitress at several little restaurants all across the city– not her ideal job, but it paid the bills– all while writing novellas and selling them to whoever was interested.

            She will be twenty-nine next spring. Her dad was Vietnamese and her mom was Italian, and she had two little sisters and three older brothers. She lived with two roommates in the eighteenth district and had two cats, Cleo and Bella. She had four nieces and nephews that she loved more than anything else, and, every year, she spent the holidays with her family in her parents’ huge country house in Normandy.

            “Yeah…” she giggled. “So that’s basically me! What about you?”

            Felix seemed a little puzzled by her question. “What about me?”

            She smiled widely. “What about _your_ life?”

            He winced, shrugged, pushing away the bitter thought. “Oh, well… It’s boring. Not worth mentioning at all…”

            “I don’t care, I wanna know!” she insisted, pressing a hand against his arm. “I just spilled out my entire existence to you! You should seriously return the favor. Come on!”

            A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he could really do anything about it. “Well, uh… let’s see… I… I have a little brother… His name’s Adrien.”

            “Uh-huh… Go on,” she encouraged him, biting in her sandwich.

            He paused a bit, thinking about what to say next. “Both my parents are French, although my dad is from Italian descent. He’s a fashion designer so I think that’s why he pushed me to work in fashion as well. We don’t really talk… so…” _Yeah, that was putting it nicely_ , “Um… what else? Well, Adrien and I were homeschooled when we were young, then we went our separate ways as we grew up. Uh… and my mom left when I was a kid… so there’s not really much to say about her… and… that’s basically it. As you can see, not really the ideal upbringing.”

            He glanced at her, hoping his little speech hadn’t made her uneasy, but she was listening to him like she was taking mental notes of the information, and even smiled when she realized he was looking at her. “What is it that you do in fashion, exactly?” she asked, because it was better than to ask him about his mother, or any other facet of his troubled family.

            “I uh… I currently left my job but uh… I was the head of my father’s enterprise’s communication department.”

            “Why did you leave?”

            “I… I guess I didn’t like it.”

            She shifted in her seat and scooted closer to him– he had to resist the urge not to scoot away from her. “So, what _do_ you like?”

            He thought he already had an answer ready for that, but, as was about to speak, the only thing that came out of his mouth was an interminable “uh…”

            “You should really stop, sometime, and ask yourself that,” she advised him wittily, winking at him.

            “I like books, and literature,” he told her. “I remember I always wanted to open up my own bookstore.”

             She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Interesting,” was all she said.

            “W-what is?”

            She shook her head, ignoring the question. “I think it suits you– The bookstore thing. I can totally picture you wearing little round glasses and suspenders, selling books to bookworms, and spending your free time catching up on your readings.”

            “I must admit this indeed sounds like the kind of life I could get used to.”

            “The quiet, untroubled type,” she sighed, as she lifted a thumb she used to wipe away some crumbs he had around his mouth.

            The gesture was really simple, natural, even, and if Bridgette didn’t really read much into it, the whole world around Felix began to spin, _uncontrollably_. And he decided to leave.

            “On what line do you live?” she asked him, getting on her feet as well.

            He blushed furiously, but it was dark now, and he doubted she had noticed. “On the 6th,” he said too quickly, as he began walking– he was significantly taller than her, so he could easily lose her if he was fast enough– but she caught up to him, of course, holding on to his arm, and he couldn’t exactly get away.

            “I’m off that way, too– Let’s go together!” she exclaimed happily, and Felix knew instantly that getting rid of Bridgette would never be that easy, so he agreed, because he was tired, and above all, he wanted to go home, and be as far away from her as possible.

            They talked a bit on the subway– Bridgette was the one doing the talking, really– and both could’ve agreed that the whole ride was pretty awkward overall, with Felix closing up altogether, and her trying desperately to fill up any uncomfortable silence.

            She got off first, and kissed his cheek goodbye before leaving him, hoping that she’ll see him again next Saturday.

            He didn’t say anything and just watched her walk away, a little tenser than earlier in the evening– he was probably to blame for that.

            He got home on autopilot, took a shower, brushed his teeth, went to bed– he didn’t even check his phone for messages from Marinette– and just laid there, in the covers, his gaze on the ceiling, thinking about Bridgette’s lips, their softness, as they gently touched his skin, or Bridgette in general, how horribly persistent she could be, and the fact that she didn’t comprehend the concept of boundaries and personal space, but how, despite everything that happened, tonight was still one of the best nights of his life.

            She was still on his mind when he finally drifted to sleep.

 

***

 

The next day, Adrien Agreste made the cover of _L’Officiel Hommes_ in nothing but a tie, a suit jacket, and boxer shorts, and with lipstick marks all over his face and torso, and the world wouldn’t shut up about it. Gabriel wasn’t really happy with it, at first, but the many positive reviews he ended up receiving eventually made him change his mind–

            He didn’t admit he was wrong, of course, but stopped bringing up the subject. Adrien snorted at the thought, as his fingers softly grazed the ivory of his piano keys. Gabriel Agreste could never be at fault, anyway.

            It wasn’t Gabriel Agreste’s fault if he was physically incapable of feeling remorse. It sure as Hell wasn’t his fault if he was always so cold and distant with everyone, because, well, he _had_ to maintain a figure of authority and professionalism at all times– It wasn’t his fault if he didn’t know how to effectively separate his work life from his personal one.

            It wasn’t his fault if he didn’t know how to care, to cry, to heed his children’s wellbeing, or love them, like they deserved to be loved.

            It wasn’t his fault that both of them were today this mere excuse of fucked-up human beings that they were– It wasn’t his fault that Adrien had felt so alone, and so forlorn, for so long, and that he woke up at night, sometimes, dreaming that he was being abandoned by his brother, his father, his mother, all over again. It wasn’t his fault that Felix was an alcoholic with serious anger issues. It wasn’t his fault they were both so… broken.

            And it definitely wasn’t his fault that his wife had left him. It wasn’t his fault that Felix and Adrien had to grow up without a mother.

            “It’s beautiful,” Marinette’s voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through butter– He didn’t need to turn around to know it was her. She walked the distance between them, the sound of her high heels on the marble floor smothered by that of the music, and then, her hands were on his shoulders, slowly sliding down the collar of his shirt, her fingertips gently skimming over his collarbones, and her lips were in his hair, as he continued to play.

            “It’s Chopin’s Spring Waltz,” he said. “It was my mother’s favorite.” Marinette hummed in response and began rubbing his skin, massaging the tense muscles of his neck, and her touch was burning him. “Want me to show you?” he asked, when the song ended, lifting his head up to look at her– Even upside-down, he was certain that her face was the most beautiful face that had ever walked the Earth. She leaned in to kiss him softly, then smiled that smile that would make a grown man melt into a puddle of flesh and blood and bones and… glass.

            “Yeah, sure,” she answered, as he scooted over and let her sit next to him.

            “Here, put your hands like this,” he instructed, taking her hands in his to place them on the keys.

            The scene was simple, yet it held some kind of precious magic, a white energy, pure, and old, and furious and electric, that cloaked their bodies and hollered around them, taming the shadows and the madness of the night, and now that they were together, _nothing_ was impossible.

            Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off of him– she tried to concentrate on the keynotes, but couldn’t– This was Cat Noir next to her, holding her hands, guiding her fingers on the piano, this was the guy she always believed she’d never have, this was the man who held her heart, and her soul, and her body, this was the boy she fell in love with when she didn’t know what love was.

            _Promise me it will last forever_ , she wanted to say, but she just pressed her lips against his neck instead, and felt his hands freeze in hers.

            The music stopped and Marinette was placing open-mouth kisses all over his skin, sucking on the flesh, and suddenly she felt the urge to mark every last square inch of his body.

            Charles Bukowski once revealed the secret to true happiness; he said to find what you loved, and then to let it kill you.

            “Does your door have a lock?” she asked.

            Well, dying at the hands of Marinette Dupain-Cheng was an admirable way to go, Adrien thought.

            He pressed his lips together and nodded, before quickly getting to his feet and pacing to his door. He turned the key three times in the lock and raced back to his girlfriend, who was standing up now, gesturing for him to take a seat on the piano stool. He gulped, and did as he was told.

            Her hands reached for his cheeks and tilted his head upwards to face her. His eyes were wide and so green, it took her every last bit of self-control she still had not to drown in them.

            She kissed him hard and languorously, as she quickly unfastened his shirt, running her palms all over his torso– Adrien didn’t exactly have a defined six-pack– He didn’t even have abs. His stomach was flat, and the sternness of his pectorals and biceps was indisputable, but his diet was constricting and didn’t really give him the means to put on very large muscles. Marinette didn’t mind– she was never into bodybuilders anyway.

            Adrien groaned as she let go of his mouth, letting her lips drift to his chin, his neck and his chest, kissing and licking all the way to his belly button, and he tensed at once when he felt her fingers play with his belt, undoing it easily, before moving on to his pants, unbuttoning then unzipping them, as she quietly kneeled between his legs, making his heart burst inside his ribcage.

            He let out a sharp breath when she tugged on his underwear, exposing him to the cold air of the room, and his eyes rolled back into his skull when he felt her lips, her mouth, closing on him, and her tongue, twisting and dancing all around. He would’ve fallen back, he was sure, if the piano hadn’t been pressing against his back.

            “Ladybug…” he whined, but his moans only encouraged her to go faster, and deeper.

            There was something powerful, enthralling even, about finding yourself in such a position, according to Marinette, controlling your partner’s pleasure in a way, choosing where and how to kiss him, and being the reason he was… collapsing altogether.

            Intimacy was a delicate little thing, so easy to pluck out, and destroy, if not handled carefully. And love, love is fragile, and yet so strong. Love was an entity with a brain of its own and a well-defined plan to follow.

            She glanced up at him. His face was red and he had trouble breathing. His knuckles were white, folded into fists at his sides. His jaw was tense and he was biting on his lip, as if he was trying not to scream– What a shame, she thought, she would’ve liked hearing his strangled voice, as he tried to say her name again.

            Their gazes met, he blushed even brighter, but she didn’t stop.

            He twitched inside her mouth, as she slowly drove him to completion, and, in seconds, it was over, and he could breathe again. Marinette smirked at him, as she rose up to sit on his lap. He tried to say something, but his brain was empty and his body was tired, and his soul was burnt out, so he just wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.

            They stayed like that for a while, just holding on to each other.

            It was late, already, and her car was parked right in front of the Agreste mansion– she had a meeting with Gabriel early in the afternoon, and had left Rosalind and Anthony in charge of the boutique. When they were done, she asked Natalie if Adrien was at home, and decided to go upstairs and greet him.

            “I still need to pass by my boutique before going home,” she chuckled into his ear, as she rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s already dark, outside.”

            He pressed her harder against him, he wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet, “just a minute.”

            “Alright, kitten,” she sighed softly, after a long pause, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck.


	14. Pour Some Sugar On Me

Alya always said that sex was the most pleasurable, wonderful sensation known to humankind. That sex was like booze and rollercoasters– even when it was bad, it was still good– and Marinette… Well, Marinette sometimes couldn’t but agree with her.

            Sex was good, alright. Sex was exciting and fun, a thrilling way to explore, get to know and fall in love with your body– an occasion to let it all out– a cathartic experience that joined id, ego, and super-ego together for just a second that felt like never-ending centuries.

            Sex was like a giant game of ‘Mother May I.’ It started with a flirty side-look, a cocky smile, some bold words, a text, a phone call, nice clothes, and pink champagne, and ended with inferno and sweat and diamonds. Sex made you feel powerful and confident, in control, and allowed you to let go of all your fears and insecurities because, during these few, puny, minute, almost negligible instants, your thoughts just didn’t matter anymore– Orgasms, truly, were the only thing that made sex worthwhile, and, when you finally found the person you really wanted to be with, every caress felt like an outer-body experience.

            Adrien’s touch set fire to her skin, making flesh come alive under his fingertips, and every single cell of her body was trembling with delight and exhilaration– each breath she exhaled turned her insides to ice, and drops of sweat sparkled on her forehead and her limbs, shinier than stars, while her heart beat a hundred miles an hour, and out of her chest.

            Her tongue felt rough and pasty inside her mouth, and her body was exhausted, yet it still responded to her partner’s strokes– each one of his movements, she felt like a torment.

            Music played in the back of her head, violins and cellos singing ceremoniously, speeding up the pace of this still new choreography they weren’t perfectly accustomed to.

            She knew she was long gone when he looked down at her, diving in her dark eyes, drunk with love, and yearn, and pure lechery. He left fiery kisses all along her neck and shoulders, sucking and bruising her skin, marking her like she was his, but she had to close her eyes to keep the ember of his touch from consuming her, as she screamed his name when he finally drove her into the edge– he was soon to fall after her.

            She was wearing a nice green corset tonight, and the only thing that still kept them miles apart from each other was this ridiculous piece of lingerie. He whispered something in her ear before he slid his tongue between her clavicles and began undoing the front hook of her bra– with his teeth– freeing her breasts in a single, swift movement, and covering them with hot, wet kisses.

            She could tell he was having fun, unraveling her, elegantly turning the all-so graceful Marinette Dupain-Cheng into a famished monster thirsty for him and his body, aching for his touch, a breathing image of untainted debauchery.

            He tugged on the sheets as he lowered himself, even more, uncovering her swollen sex, beating like a second heart in between her legs, and kissed it gently, making her back arch onwards– it encouraged him to keep going. Her skull imploded, spilling her brains on the pillows, and her eyes slid out of their sockets, while his fingers wrote alexandrines inside of her.

            She pulled on his hair and dragged him up to her when she couldn’t take it anymore– He was grinning, a wide, fairly satisfied shit-eating smile hanging at the corners of his mouth. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she rolled her eyes as she pushed him away.

            He laughed, as he fell beside her, then took her in his arms and pressed her against him.

            “Where did you even learn all that?” she blurted out, panting still, and she held on to him like he was ought to disappear if she dared to let go.

            He chuckled under his breath. “Uh… research? The Internet? Books? Did you know that my dad had the seven volumes of the Kama Sutra displayed in his library?”

            She tsked in exasperation at the remark, and sighed. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’ve never been with anyone else…”

            He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “It’s not that hard to believe, though, you know– I never went to school, never really had friends, and the only girls my age I was around were stuck-up or cocaine-addicted models that only had eyes for the photographer, or my _dad_ – _Major_ turn-off. Plus, there was this thing where I was _way_ too in love with you to be able to function like a normal human being, so… yeah.”

            “Then how did you get so _good_?” she whined, curling up against him.

            He laughed out loud. “Maybe years of built-up sexual frustration could explain it,” he tried, but she only pouted, nudging him on the arm, before wrapping one leg around his and scooting even closer to him.

            “Isn’t there _anything_ you’re bad at?” she asked.

            He smirked to himself, “not that I can think of…”

            “Oh, fuck off…” she cut him off, slapping a hand against his mouth as he began to giggle hysterically. “I hate you…”

            “No, you don’t,” he chirped happily.

            “Of course, I don’t…” she sighed, closing her eyes– for just a second, she promised herself– as she tried to gather up the courage to get out of bed and walk all the way to the bathroom to shower, and suddenly, Adrien’s chest was so hot and comfortable, better even than her mattress and pillows, and she wondered how bad it really would be if she just remained there, waiting for the sun to swell up and wipe all life off the Milky Way.

            She groaned as she forced herself to get out of bed, putting her underwear back on and yawning lazily. Adrien watched her, his arms, folded behind his head, as she walked towards her wardrobe to pick out a pajama set. “Here,” she said, standing on her toes to reach for some clean sheets, “make yourself useful and change the sheets, would you?”

            Adrien clicked his tongue. “I think we both know that I’ve been very helpful tonight…”

            At that, Marinette swung on her heels to face him– he still had that arrogant look on his face, and she had to bite on her inner cheeks to keep a straight face. “Do you want to die, Adrien? ‘Cause that’s exactly the kind of attitude that gets someone murdered,” she warned him, but it was simply impossible for him to take her seriously– and especially with the way she was trying hard not to laugh.

            “Nah! you’ll miss me too much,” he winked at her, and she threw the sheets she was holding to his face.

            “Try me,” she challenged him, before exiting the room, and she heard him laughing as she shut the bathroom door.

 

Marinette had to be at work at 8:00 A.M. sharp every day and, because she had this tendency to ignore her alarm in the morning, she often didn’t have time to shower then and took the habit of doing it at night.

            Marinette liked showering in boiling hot water– she always said it relaxed her muscles and helped to cleanse her skin by opening up her pores to eliminate all traces of toxins. Steam would build up in her tiny bathroom, covering the walls and floor tiles with little water droplets and fogging the mirror and window glass, chasing away the chill in the air– she turned the water on, slowly unbuttoned the corset she was wearing, and stared at her naked reflection with creased eyelids and a pout.

            It wasn’t that Marinette didn’t like her body– she was actually quite proud of it, if she was being honest– She worked hard for it daily, carefully measuring her food intake and exercising regularly– spending an incommensurable amount of money on cosmetic creams and body lotions to maintain her unwrinkled, pimple-free skin, and always taking the time to correctly condition her hair to keep it as smooth and shiny all the time.

            She loved her thin arms and toned legs, and her body to waist ratio was almost ideal, shaping her a very delicate hourglass figure. Over time, she had even learned to accept the scars that stretched out all over her back and stomach, and trained her brain to perceive them not as tokens of horrible and terrifying akuma attacks, but rather as reminders of past victories.

            Her largest one yet was the one that almost killed her six months ago, when Cat Noir and she were faced by the _Enchantress_ – her actual name was Alma Leclaire, and she was a self-proclaimed psychic whose business was forced to shut down after she was accused and persecuted for fraud. Her mind control abilities were enhanced by Hawk Moth’s powers, and fighting her revealed to be a true nightmare– she called upon the powers of angry ghosts and used their disparaging fury to destroy building after building, and push the two superheroes to give up.

            Ultimately, the Enchantress was able to get ahold of her partner’s mind, and Ladybug had to ask for Carapace’s help in addition to that of Rena Rouge to be able to defeat the akuma– she instructed them to take the cursed object away from her and free the dark-winged butterfly, while she dueled Cat Noir– After all, Carapace’s powers rendered him immune to the Enchantress’s mind games, and Rena’s abilities could perfectly measure to those of the supervillain, not to mention that Ladybug was Cat Noir’s best match.

            All aspects of the plan had seemed perfect.

            _Ever wondered what Cat Noir’s Cataclysm could do to a person?_ Marinette thought to herself, as she brushed a hand over the red claw mark that deeply cut on her abdomen, carving a lurid ornament of torn flesh and callus, ragged sheath that belted her waist horribly.

            The cicatrix still hurt sometimes, but no one, apart from her parents, knew about it– but even they never got the full story.

            Tikki was able to save her some crucial minutes during the Enchantress battle, giving her time to save and restore the city, before Marinette collapsed in the middle of the emergency rooms and was urgently admitted to the operating block.

            The doctors were able to sew up the wound in record time and administer her all the blood she had lost– She had been lucky, they said, as Tom and Sabine nodded gravely, writing down every step they had to follow while changing her bandages.

            She let out a deep sigh as she realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep it from Adrien for much longer.

 

***

 

Rosalind, Marinette’s assistant, was always at work before her– she was in charge of opening up the boutique, in addition to her other duties– but whereas Marinette sometimes stayed there until ungodly hours of the night to work on some project, Rosalind usually packed her things and was gone by two o’clock in the afternoon, leaving Anthony to take over.

            Both of them were part-time students, one having most of his courses in the morning, while the other chose to attend the late classes– they had big dreams for the future and ferociously admired Marinette’s dedication to her brand.

            Anthony was a fashion student and loved working with the creator of the _Lady Luck_. It was so easy to make him happy, too– Marinette only needed to ask him for his insight on her designs, and he was simply over the moon when she invited him to fashion shows she was thinking of attending.

            Rosalind wanted to start her own filmmaking company and breathed in every bit of advice Marinette had for her. She worked hard, and was successfully able to manage her job, her homework and her YouTube channel– she wasn’t yet able to make a living off the internet, but was satisfied, for now, about the turn things were taking. Marinette always tried to watch her latest short films, and Rosalind couldn’t help but feel proud, when her boss arrived in the morning, complementing her on her newest update.

            “Hello, Rosalind,” Marinette greeted her employee, struggling a bit with her umbrella as she walked into the boutique, before she closed and left it in a corner, and wiped her muddy boots on the doormat– it was raining cats and dogs outside, and Marinette once again applauded her decision to take the subway instead of her car. “How are you, today?”

            Rosalind smiled at her boss. “I’m alright– Hey, Marinette, I have some documents I need you to sign before I can mail them and… Mr. Agreste’s assistant just faxed us some more paperwork, we ‘urgently’ need to take care of before the show next week.”

            “Oh, okay,” Marinette said, frowning, as she began to take off her coat and walked towards Rosalind’s desk. The latter had already a pen ready for her and presented her with the documents immediately, pointing at where she needed her signature.

            “Thank you. Also, Mr. Agreste wants you to confirm that you will indeed be present on the set tomorrow to supervise the teaser’s shooting,” the assistant went on, organizing some papers into a colored folder that she slid between Marinette’s hands. “These are Sancœur’s notes,” she specified.

            “Confirmed,” Marinette nodded, before taking a quick look inside the folder. “What do we have planned for today, other than that?”

            Rosalind held out her agenda and started reading, “uh… you have a meeting with the sales manager and assistant buyer of _Alvarado_ later in the morning, a Skype interview with Sami Solh, one of your investors, about the whole expanding thing, and… you made me write down to remind to call your friend Alya.”

            “ _Shit_ , Alya, right!” Marinette winced. “Uh… anything else?”

            “Nope, that’s it, boss,” Rosalind replied, closing up her agenda, before focusing her eyes back on her computer screen.

            “Okay, then. I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Marinette told her, as she headed to the back of the boutique.

            She let Tikki out of her purse as she closed the door behind her, and hanged her coat, scarf, and beanie on her hatstand, took a quick look at herself in the mirror, before collapsing into her chair and turning her computer on.

            There was a red rose on her desk, with a little side note that read, _Meet me at the top of the Marie-Joëlle building at eight o’clock, tonight_ , and Marinette just smiled at it before picking it up to smell it.

            “You should call him,” her kwami advised her, as she landed on her owner’s shoulder and let her huge head fall into her paws, sighing at the romantic sight.

            Marinette reached for her phone in her pocket immediately and blindly dialed her boyfriend’s number– He picked up after the third beep.

            “ _Hello_?”

            “I’m pretty sure you were asleep when I left the apartment this morning– how’d you get here before me?” she asked, lifting up an eyebrow, as she made the rose turn between her fingers.

            She heard him giggle on the other side of the line. “ _I have a few tricks up my sleeve. What do you say? Are you free?_ ”

            “Depends on what you are up to,” she replied leerily.

            “ _Why are you always so quick to assume the worst?_ ” he chuckled. “ _Can’t an innocent little kitten treat his lady to a romantic evening on a Friday night?_ ”

            She clicked her tongue in a cheeky manner, as a spark of mischief glimmered in her eyes. “And what kitten are we talking about, exactly? Because little and innocent aren’t really the best ways to describe you…”

            “ _Really, now? I… w-what other adjectives did you have in mind, then?_ ”

            “Hmm, I’m not sure… I was thinking well, _definitely_ handsome, and _sexy_ … Hot… _Racy_ …” she began listing, as she leaned back in her chair.

            She thought she heard him choke and smirked at the idea of him blushing and losing composure because of her. “ _Uh… I- T-those a-are… Um, I think I could get used to you calling me that…_ ”

            He wanted to say something else but was interrupted by a voice screaming his name in the background. He let out a deep sigh. “Is that Vincent?” Marinette wondered.

            “ _Huh? Uh… yeah. He’s driving us all nuts– You are_ so _lucky not to be here, today. He’s just…  He’s simply out of control… I can’t believe I still have eight hours to go… God… It feels like tonight is an eternity away_.” He paused, surely to have a conversation with his photographer, before he returned to his girlfriend. “ _I’m so done with all of this and I can’t wait for it to be over–_ And _I just can’t believe I’m even complaining about it to_ you _, of all people– You’re like at the center of it all… You must be doing even worse than me…_ ”

            Marinette laughed at that and they talked for another five minutes before she heard Vincent’s voice shouting at Adrien again. The latter tsked in annoyance. “ _Hey, uh… Marinette? You know I would love nothing more than to keep on talking to you… but I really need to go… See you tonight, yeah?_ ”

            “Don’t worry, I get it– and _yes_ , definitely,” she assured him, before hanging up.

            “You two are so _cute_ together,” Tikki pointed out, as she flew to sit at the top of Marinette’s computer screen.

            The latter smiled as she carefully disposed of her phone and her rose in a drawer before opening an office document she was still working on– she typed something on her keyboard that her kwami didn’t even bother to read. “We are, aren’t we?”

            Tikki hummed in response, before diving into the mess that was Marinette’s desk– there was papers and empty folders everywhere, a dozen of fashion magazines, so old their covers was slowly coming off, some of Gabriel’s early designs Natalie had faxed her earlier, sketches the two designers were still working on, among a hundred different drawings of The Peafowl, the Agreste industry’s latest masterpiece.

            “I really like this one,” Tikki said, reaching for an early version of the dress to show it to Marinette– it was a knee-length, off-shoulders bell sleeve black dress, marked at the waist by a radiant peacock feather sash.

            The young woman shook her head. “It’s too short,” she explained, “way too casual for what Mr. Agreste had in mind.”

            “I still think it’s pretty.”

            “It _is_ very pretty, but the sleeves give off a kind of _Boho Chic_ vibe that doesn’t exactly match the strict black-tie dress code Mr. Agreste has imposed for this particular event. Besides, the only thing that reminds you of the peacock theme is the belt, and… we don’t want that. Each one of the Gabriel Agreste’s peacock-themed dresses made their way into the History of Fashion, and _The Peafowl_ is the _last_ one– It has to surpass all the other ones, and this weird crepe stretch dress would _definitely_ never make the cut…”

            Tikki didn’t argue further and let her owner get back to work, while she decided to organize the many sketches of the peacock-themed dress into many piles– the ones she didn’t like at all, the ones that seemed far too complicated for comfort, and the ones that caught her eye.

            The story of Gabriel Agreste was inspiring for all struggling artists that wanted to pierce in the fashion industry–

            Gabriel was born and grew up in the city of Brest. He came from a very strict household and had five older brothers and sisters– His parents never supported his artistic aspirations and sent him to college right after high school to get a degree in accounting so he could easily get a job later on.

            During his studies, he went against their wishes and accepted to intern for a little teen fashion magazine that took up most of his free time– As a result, he was only able to work on his designs at night, when he was taking a break from his revisions.

            He decided to move to Paris when he got his diploma with the firm mindset to make a name of himself– Unfortunately, doing so revealed to be much more difficult than how he had pictured it, and he ended up working as a supermarket cashier for two whole years, all while sharing a small apartment with four other guys. At this point, all his wishes of becoming a renowned fashion designer were beginning to fade away– his sketches were either too _avant-gardiste_ , or not bold enough. His drawings were not authentic, his visions weren’t inspiring... His portfolio was a collection of pure rubbish, some even said. His ideas had potential, but he lacked the means, education and experience to make it flourish, and not one fashion house in all of Paris had agreed to take a chance on him– Life was that cruel to aspiring artists and the city was so big, it was easy for newcomers to get lost and lose balance, forget why they came here in the first place.

            Dreams often never survived the hectic life of the metropolis and were already dead and buried before they even had an occasion to take in their first breath.

            When she was a kid, Marinette used to look up to him– Gabriel Agreste, the underdog, now king of one of the most influential fashion enterprise in Europe. He was her hero, and she always wanted to be just like him– She followed all the interviews he’s given to the press, memorized what he said, how he talked, and tried to adapt his perspectives on life to her own, to see the world exactly how he did.

            She quoted him in many of her essays and had read his book, _Caterpillars and Butterflies_ , more times than she could count it. In it, he recounted his long and difficult journey to the top, revealed bare truths about what the fashion industry really looked like up-close, when all diamonds and glitter were set aside, and explained to young visionaries the art of dreaming _intelligently_.

            For Gabriel Agreste, dreaming was a crucial part of life. Without it, our soul would forever be lost in a sort of infinite limbo made of gray and regret– he often used that analogy to describe his parents’ views on the world. One could tell he resented them for forcing him into a career path he didn’t like, but was grateful to them at the same time, for the important lessons they have taught him: only one out of a million ‘dreamer’ succeeded because dreaming wasn’t cheap– Dreaming demanded sacrifices and efforts. Dreaming was thirsty for your tears, your sweat, and your blood.

            ‘Make love to art and life, enjoy the finest wine under the moonlight, and chase after your wildest dreams,’ he said one time, during an interview for _L’Obs_ , ‘but don’t forget that there is a dark twist to every wish, and that, in this world, we don’t pay our debts in gold, we pay them in flesh.”

            When an interschool derby-hat designing contest was launched as an advertisement campaign for the opening of his ‘ _Mundane Paris_ ’ collection, Marinette was among the first students to register– the participants would have a month to work on and fashion their designs, and the winner would have his piece of clothing displayed in Gabriel’s line. More than anything else, Marinette wanted to win– she went to the extent of pulling all-nighters and neglecting her school work in order to tailor a derby-hat so out of the ordinary, the jury would have no other choice than to declare her victorious– Gabriel Agreste was impressed by her idea, he offered her a three-month-long internship, working as his personal assistant or, to put it more simply, a job hundred thousands of people would _kill_ for– Saying that the news sent her over the top was putting it lightly.

            During the internship, she was able to shadow most of his professional meetings and took notes of the smallest bit of advice he breathed in her direction. She got to take a close look at his work, at designs that weren’t even public yet, and even sometimes was allowed to share her viewpoints on them– he actually took her critiques into consideration.

            She learned a lot about fashion and the art of clothesmaking– he taught her a better, quicker and more efficient way to use her sewing machine, and took the time to explain to her the differences between pairs of tailor’s scissors. Even when he had an entire army of fashion designers working for him, Gabriel still liked to sew some of his designs himself and shared with Marinette little tricks and tips he had come up with over time– like, for example, he taught her how to use chopsticks to turn inside-out corners and gain some precious minutes, told her that there was no need in wasting her money to buy expensive tailor’s chalk when regular chalk was perfectly adequate, and trained her to recognize different fabrics at sight. He helped her distinguish easily between different shades of blue and purple, and taught her to hide her signature in the folds of her designs so that no one, ever, would be able to take credit for her creations.

            Gabriel was always incredibly respectful towards her, sometimes even showed a glimpse of enthusiasm when she came by. He liked the way she knew his book by heart and followed him on every social media platform there was, and how she just looked at his designs like they were jewelry.

            He liked conversing with her because their minds clicked together. They discussed fashion history, mostly, but also politics, her career choices, and society in general, exchanged philosophical approaches to life. Their debates amused him. Even now, working alongside with Gabriel Agreste was extremely rewarding– she always learned from him, his presence, and admired his professionalism and taciturnity, his unshaken ambitions– but she didn’t want to be him anymore, because she didn’t like the fact that Gabriel Agreste never smiled to his employees, or didn’t show his face to the public anymore. He greeted people politely, knew his designers by name, but never directly spoke to either one of them– Natalie was in charge of job interviews and all kinds of communication technicalities.

            The whole world knew and quivered when he didn’t like something– His employees were basically not allowed to fault and make mistakes, but when something was done right, he showed no gratitude and didn’t even acknowledge it. For a whole month, Marinette remembered, she thought Felix was one of his assistants– she was befuddled when she learned the truth.

            Gabriel Agreste was a very secretive and mysterious man and, for someone who was the author of the most inspirational novels Marinette had ever read, Gabriel always acted like he was disgusted by life itself– In his defense, however, he had been beaten to the ground and shit on way too many times to be able to make peace with it, so why should he even try and give it another chance? Life had rendered him cold, sharp, and maybe even cruel, had turned him into an emotionless robot that had lost his soul to fashion.

            Gabriel Agreste stopped being her idol the second she witnessed the way he addressed his elder son and, over time, Marinette was able to separate him into two very distinct personalities; there was first Gabriel Agreste, the fashion icon, whose story she admired and advice she cherished, and then, there was Gabriel Agreste, the shitty parent who turned Felix and Adrien’s lives into actual Hell, and that she despised more than anything else.

            “Hey, Marinette?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Do you know when did Gabriel Agreste decide to change his signature?” Tikki asked, as she compared one of Gabriel’s oldest designs with one of his most recent ones– his signature used to be solely composed of his initials, but developed into a far more complex form over time, shaping, today, discreet butterfly wings around the i of his name.

            Marinette detached her gaze from her computer screen to look at Tikki. “I never really noticed.”

            “Here,” the kwami said, handing her the two pictures. “See, how it changed? I thought designers always tried to avoid modifying their brand's signatures for legal and economic reasons. Is it too far-fetched to assume that he...”

            Tikki didn't finish her sentence, and let her unspoken words hang in the air, as the young woman frowned and took a closer look at the two sketches. "Don't be ridiculous."

            "When did his book come out?" the kwami asked, shrugging.

            "I don't know- When I was still in High School, I guess? Seven, six years ago? Why?"

            "I think I'm gonna let you figure this one out on your own," Tikki said, as she placed her large head on her tiny paws, and waited for her owner to connect the dots.

            The latter's eyes rounded in stupefaction as she was hit by the realization– she immediately turned towards the little goddess, as one crazy thought crossed her mind. “He couldn’t, could he?”

            Marinette didn’t need to pronounce the exact words for Tikki to understand what she meant. The giant bug shrugged again. “I mean… It fits the description, doesn’t it? Think about it– distant man, isolated lifestyle, never really shows his face to the public... _And_ he is rich enough to have been able to buy the brooches and book from Lily Dévereux at the auction.” The kwami marked a short pause. “Plus, that's an awfully alarming number of butterfly references I counted... and I kind of have the feeling that Nooroo might have had something to do with it.”

            “Or... It could be a coincidence,” Marinette was quick to deny. “We don’t know anything for sure.”

            “Could be,” Tikki agreed. "It could be the mayor for all we know- or even Mrs. Dévereux herself," she mocked her owner's naivety openly and didn't miss the latter's pout. "But I think we should choose to follow the obvious pattern, for once. All these butterflies might as well be our Lucky Charm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RaG8faaFUMM)


	15. The Ballad Of Mona Lisa

Nightfall couldn’t come sooner.

            Marinette had spent the rest of the day trying to decide what to tell Adrien, how to tell him, and, by the time she was back home, she had made a fool of herself in front of _Alvarado_ ’s sales representatives, had driven her investor Sami Solh to postpone their meeting until next week, and still had no idea how to bring up the topic without completely messing up her first ever serious relationship.

            She had felt bad, waiting until their date tonight, but this wasn’t exactly the kind of things people discussed over the phone– this was information that needed a face-to-face conversation, a complete, undivided attention, and a semblance of privacy.

            It needed food, handholding, and lots of wine– Plus, the duration of an hour-long lunch break probably wasn’t enough for someone to swallow, correctly process, and simply begin to deal with the possibility that their father might be a criminal.

            Marinette sighed– There will never be a right time to tell anyway, and Adrien _will_ get hurt, no matter when, or how, she chose to tell him– At this point, it was basically a lose-lose situation.

            The _Marie-Joëlle_ building wasn’t actually called like that– Cat Noir gave it its name, soon after Ladybug and he turned it into their secret hang out spot, something like five years ago. It had been abandoned decades before and the entire construction was in ruins now, but it was quiet and always empty, and they could stay there for hours, knowing that it was a place where they could just hide from the world and be themselves, and dream, and share, and vent, and laugh… Somewhere neither the press, nor anyone, would ever find them.

            Adrien had used rusty iron poles and a large grayish sheet to build up a romantic little tent in the middle of _Marie-Joëlle_ ’s rooftop and had filled the place with candles and roses, as he waited for his girlfriend to show up. He had chosen the wine, a nice 2010 Altitudes rouge, Ixsir, specially delivered to his father’s wine cellar from Batroun in Lebanon, and had prepared a picnic basket he had packed with sandwiches and fruits.

            “Oh, wow…,” Ladybug gasped, as she landed soundlessly on the top of the building, completely taken aback by the beautiful sight. When she came back to her senses, she realized her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. “A-Adrien?” she called out, nervously looking around, before she heard someone landing behind her.

            “Hey,” he whispered in her ear, as he gently wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his arms.

            “Hey,” she whispered back, as she slowly shifted in his embrace to greet him with a chaste kiss on the lips. “Aren’t you afraid it’s gonna rain?” she asked in a low voice, smirking at him.

            He shrugged. “I checked the weather app this afternoon. Not a hint of a cloud,” he told her, lifting his head up to look at the sky.

            She did the same. “The stars are beautiful, tonight,” she noted pressing her mouth against his chin.

            “Yeah, we got really lucky,” he remarked, glancing back at her, catching her wandering lips between his.

            “You’re welcome,” she giggled, gesturing to her Miraculous, and, this time, she turned around completely to hook her hands behind his neck and pull him down for a more passionate kiss.

            They remained in their superhero costumes as they moved to sit under Adrien’s tent because it was simply too cold for them to even dream about letting down their transformations– the suits kept them from the icy wind and blocked out the chill of the night.

            The food was scrumptious– Adrien admitted having asked his personal chef for help– and the wine was exquisite, although she refused a second serving.

            They spoke for hours, talked about everything, exchanged funny and embarrassing childhood stories and joked about their past selves. They recalled both happy and bad memories they shared and got to know each other even better. After a while, her cheeks itched from smiling too much and her sides felt sore for laughing uncontrollably for too long.

            They briefly mentioned Christmas plans before drifting to more weary subjects, like Adrien’s family, his mother’s departure, his dad’s antics, and Marinette dared to say a word about Felix. They also talked about akumas and Hawk Moth, and smiles and laughter faded away completely. She listened to him talk, staring at him, contrite, feeling the stinging paws of a spider cutting through her insides each time she wanted to tell him about what Tikki and she had conjectured earlier during the day, only to end up refraining last second, a coward.

            She didn’t know when he started telling her about his meeting with Lily Dévereux and how the latter had agreed to grant him permission to look through the records– how he was just waiting for a written confirmation, at this point, but she knew her chance had passed.

            Then, they fell silent, and decided to just lay down in each other’s arms and enjoy the music Adrien had picked for them tonight– he confessed having spent most of his adolescence coming up with the perfect playlist that he was sure he’d be able, one day, to share with her. She giggled at the thought, as she scooted closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder. His hand was in her hair almost immediately after that, ruffling them to undo her braids.

            “Better?” she asked, clicking her tongue at him when he was finally able to free all of her hair.

            “Much,” he nodded, smiling at no one in particular.

             A minute of silence passed by and Marinette wanted to stay in his arms forever. “This is nice,” she sighed, nuzzling her nose against the crook of this neck, as [_Estranged_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saw1APcdOJ4) began to play on his phone. “I love this song,” she said, curling up even tighter against him before he suddenly propped himself up on an elbow and eyed her with a hint of keenness on his face.

            “Dance with me,” he nudged her, getting on his feet before she even could provide him with an answer, and grabbing her by the hand to pull her out from under the tent.

            The candles around them provided them with soft, flickering twinkles of light, as Ladybug slipped into her partner’s arms, moving quietly between them, her cheek, pressing gently against his chest, slowly letting his quick heartbeat take over the music. He enjoyed the sweet smell of her, a mixture of berries, and coffee beans and vanilla, as he buried himself in her hair.

            The old love song set emotions on fire and he could feel the wine, pulsating through his veins, casting a warm glow upon them, something like a spell that bounded their souls together. Tonight, Paris was an empty ghost town and the whole city was theirs.

            Ladybug and he were always meant to be together, he had always believed that bit, but, up until a month ago, he used to see them like the sun and the moon, two desperate lovers, cursed to be apart forever and spend eternity waiting for an eclipse.

            When he spoke of her, he spoke in verses and poems, describing her in metaphors and purple prose. He wrote stories about her, constantly tried to guess her name, and spent nights dreaming about her blue eyes and her wide smile, leaving no room in his heart for anyone else.

            His thoughts came rushing back to the present time as he felt her move closer to him, her arms, slowly folding around his shoulders. He drew her nearer, crushing her against him, running his hands on her sides, then up, to lift her face towards him, and searched her eyes in the candle light, before he leaned in to kiss her lips.

            They could kiss forever. They could just stand there, arms in arms, and kiss forever. People would write epics about them, sing ballads about their love for each other, and name constellations after them.

            The Earth could stop spinning right now, the universe could be turned upside-down and Hawk Moth could put Paris to fire and sword, and he would not let go of her, because love was the only thing that tied the Heavens and the Underground together. Love made you selfish and selfless at the same time, it made you cruel and merciful– It corrupted your morals, body and soul, and made you become the best and worst possible version of yourself.

            Marinette sighed and opened her mouth, gathering all her courage to say, “I have to tell you something,” however, the skies, had other plans, as they unleashed on them a furious storm, cutting her off mid-sentence, forcing them to let go of each other and hurry up to gather their things, before everything was ruined by the rain.

            Ladybug was the quickest to react– She grabbed her boyfriend’s phone and shoved it in the picnic basket, before wrapping the tent sheet around it to form some sort of barrier to keep it safe from the water, and urged Cat Noir to leave everything and follow her, assuring him that they could clean up this mess when it stopped raining.

            She led him into small, dark alleys and guided him through dimly lit shortcuts he didn’t even know existed, before they touched down on Marinette’s balcony and slid, soaking wet, into her apartment.

            It was quiet for a moment, as they both disposed of what they were holding on to on the kitchen floor, before they just looked into each other and burst out laughing.

            “I put the blame on Plagg,” Cat Noir said, as he tried to recover his breath, gesturing to his beeping ring.

            Ladybug smiled, as she let her transformation down– he copied her immediately, and Plagg didn’t waste a second to lecture him about being out in the cold all night, and getting him wet from the rain. The kwami of bad luck and destruction would probably have had no problem sermoning him until morning, but, after exchanging a discreet look with her owner, Tikki had the excellent idea to pull her fellow god by his tail, out of the kitchen, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

            Their clothes were still dry, thanks to magic, they guessed, but Marinette still provided them with towels for their hair. “Tea?” she then asked, as she busied herself with tea sets and platters, letting him choose his infusion among her very large selection, before she showed him the way into her living room where they took place on the couch.

            Marinette always had some biscuits in her cupboards for Tikki, so she offered him some. Adrien never really got to taste them, however, because, as soon as they were seated, they began making out heavily– she didn’t know how much she had needed it until their jaws were padlocked together, and all her thoughts were blurred away by his touch.

            _Yes_ , kissing Marinette was definitely something Adrien could get used to, he thought to himself, as he pulled her into his lap. Her mouth tasted like paradise and he loved the feeling of her against him, her body, hot, and her hands, all over him– she could take any part of him she wanted, if only he could have her lips.

            “Wait just a second,” she said suddenly, pressing a finger against his nose, as she slowly drew herself away from him.

            He reached for her immediately, keeping her from getting up. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a whisper, his voice thick with passion and desire, and his half-lidded eyes imploring her to stay.

            “Nothing,” she assured him, diving in for a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back,” she promised.

            And then, she was gone, and Adrien felt like he was missing something, his skin, still burning where she had touched him, but freezing cold everywhere else.

            He let out a weighty sigh as he sank back between the couch cushions, his palms pressed over his closed eyelids as he tried to convince himself that he was still wide awake, that all this wasn’t a dream, that Marinette was indeed his Ladybug, and that she was in love with him just as much as he was in love with her.

            He kicked his shoes off, praying to whoever was listening that he hasn’t misread the situation, before he undid his belt and took his denim jacket and his overshirt off. He lifted a spoon in front of his face and tried to arrange his hair the best he could.

            When Marinette walked back into the room, Adrien’s first impulse was to compliment her on the incredible black lacy chemise she was wearing, but he rapidly came to the realization that one couldn’t talk when their jaw was on the ground.

            “You like it?” she purred, striking a pose, and Adrien tried to answer but the only thing that he was able to get out was something that fairly resembled a human groan. “Come on!” she giggled, taking him by the hand, and dragging him into her bedroom.

 

“I have to tell you something.”

            “What?” Adrien panted, as he lied on his back, his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders, as he stared at the ceiling, and all he wanted to do was stay quiet and silently drift to sleep.

            “You have to promise not to get mad.” Her voice was small and shaking a little, but her respiration was steady– that bothered him profoundly, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. He closed his eyes and tried to disappear, but the urgency in Marinette’s tone forced him to remain alert and awake.

            “Huh? Why? Did you eat all the cheese, again? ‘Cause you know, there’s only Plagg that really cares for that,” he tried to joke and earned a nudge to his arm.

            “Adrien, I’m serious!” she snapped at him, frowning. He let out a deep sigh as he propped himself up on an elbow to take a better look at her– her palms were pressing against her eyes and he had no idea what he did wrong.

            “Hey, I’m sorry,” he apologized, slowly taking her hands off her face. “What is it?” She didn’t answer; instead, she glanced away and avoided his eyes for a very long minute. “Okay, you have to talk soon, because you’re seriously starting to freak me out.”

            “I think your father might be Hawk Moth,” she blurted out, before slapping her hands to her mouth, but the words were out and, as hard as she might try, there was no way she could just take them back that easily.

            Adrien’s nose creased in confusion– he was definitely awake, now. “W-What?”

            “I–"

            “N-no– I heard you,” he immediately cut her off, straightening up to a sitting position. She did the same, but she didn’t know if she should be touching him right now, so she just remained there, silent, holding back her need to wrap an arm around him and pull him close.

            _Shit._

 _Fuck_ , she’d done it wrong. Shit, that _definitely_ wasn’t how she wanted to tell him– She knew she should’ve rehearsed it more. At this point, she could’ve asked Rena Rouge to tell him– it would’ve had the same effect. Or Master Fu– or even _Plagg_.

            Okay. Deep breaths.

            **Fuck.** “Adrien, I– Look, I don’t have _any_ proof, alright? None,” she tried to reassure him.

            He shifted to face her and there was something like anger and poison in his eyes. “Then, how can you say something like that?” His words were hostile, they attacked her, and all she could do was look away and try not to cry. “What made you think it?”

            “It-t fits!” she defended herself, curling her arms around her legs and letting her chin fall in between her knees. “The guy’s always so– so closed back on himself… H-he never shows his face to the public and… six years ago, he changed his brand signature,” she explained to him, before reaching for her phone on her nightstand and showing him the two different signatures.

            He took it from her to examine it properly, and his eyes rounded in fear. “A-are those b-butterflies?” he asked out loud, but Marinette knew the question wasn’t directed at her. “N-no,” he shook his head, giving her back her phone. “There’s no way, no!” he simply refused. “It’s just a mere coincidence– it has to be. Look,” he turned to his girlfriend, and she knew he was about to try and convince her of his viewpoint, “my dad is all kinds of shitty, but he’s not a supervillain. I-it’s stupid. He can’t be. He’s just– There’s no way. I mean… what would his motives even be? He already has everything– He _owns_ Paris.”

            Marinette shrugged. “I don’t know,” she whispered when she realized he was waiting for an answer.

            “You can’t just drop a bomb like this on me, Marinette.”

            She shook her head. “I know, I’m sorry…” Her hands were on her eyes again. “I just– I didn’t want to keep it from you.”

            “But you have _no_ proof!” he exclaimed and didn’t miss her stiffening. He took in a deep breath and slapped himself mentally for raising his voice at her. “I didn’t mean to s-shout…”

            “It’s fine,” she breathed, making him even angrier– he tried his best not to show it.

            Marinette never retaliated when he spoke harshly to her. She always had the tendency to turn the other cheek and took the hits like she deserved them– she blamed herself, instead of blaming him, because he was clearly the one at fault here, and it made him sick, disgusted with himself. “M-Maybe I should leave…”

            Her head snapped back at him immediately. “In this rain? Are you kidding?”

            He sighed. “I’d rather catch a cold than act like an ass, and regret it later,” he let her know, as he untangled himself from the covers and began to get up.

            Her hands were on his arm almost instinctively. “Please, don’t go,” she asked him with pleading eyes as he turned to face her.

            He smiled softly and leaned in to kiss her deeply, and with determination, before he let her go, lips pink and swollen and wet cheeks, and said, “I have to,” as he stood up. “I’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay?”

            No. Definitely not okay– Marinette was not okay with this _at all_. She wanted him to stay and wanted them to talk it out. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her, that he wasn’t mad at her, and that he’ll stay for her. Instead, she nodded, and Adrien called Plagg to transform. He left through the window soon after, and Marinette watched the rain pour on the glass for what seemed like hours before she was ultimately convinced by Tikki to get back to bed.

 

***

 

The only thing that Marinette was able to think about all morning was that Adrien didn’t call her back.

            She woke up, checked her phone for new messages, got out of bed, poured herself a cup of coffee, had breakfast, checked the bars of her device, then proceeded to get dressed. She braided her hair and made sure her phone wasn’t on silent mode. She climbed into her car, still scrolling for texts and voicemails, but there were none, and drove to work as quickly as possible, so she wouldn’t miss Adrien’s call if he decided to contact her while she was behind the wheel.

            She greeted Rosalind and asked if anyone had called the office, but the phone hadn’t rung once since the latter had gotten here. Marinette thanked her, sighing, before disappearing into her office.

            Tikki tried to cheer her up, telling her jokes she remembered and making silly faces, distracting her with questions and telling her about her dreams, but Marinette still glanced at her phone at least twice a minute.

            “You know what they say about a watched pot, don’t you?” her kwami asked her, and the young woman just rolled her eyes at her, before turning back to her computer.

            “He told me he was going to call in the morning.”

            “Well, technically, it’s still morning,” Tikki replied, letting out a soft chuckle.

            “Whatever,” Marinette mumbled under her breath, as a window popped open on her desktop, reminding her that she had to be at Vincent’s atelier in about two hours. “Ugh, I’m so not in the mood for this, right now.”

            “You could call and cancel,” Tikki suggested, as she faded into a closed drawer and opened it from the inside to take out the cookie box she knew her owner kept in there for her.

            “I already confirmed,” Marinette replied, disregarding the window and refocusing on the document she was working on.

            “I’m sure Vincent would understand. He’d even reschedule it for you.”

            Marinette took in a breath and turned to face her kwami, sitting in a corner of the desk, nipping on her biscuits, to smile at her. “I’m not going to call and sick because my stupid boyfriend doesn’t know how to pick up a phone and call me.”

            “Maybe he’s just not up yet.”

            “Or maybe he’s mad at me and just doesn’t want to talk to me,” Marinette countered.

            “Well, so what? He’s not going to break up with you over something that stupid!” Tikki blurted out, as she shoved an awfully big bite of biscuit into her tiny mouth.

            “You don’t know that!” Marinette shot back, stomping a fist to her desk.

            “So _that_ ’s what it’s all about!” Tikki giggled as she flew over to her owner to land on her keyboard. “He’s not gonna leave you, Marinette!”

            “You clearly didn’t see the way he looked at me, last night,” Marinette’s voice broke and her kwami thought she was going to cry. “He hates me,” she said in a whisper, and all she wanted to do all of a sudden was to curl herself up under her desk and hide from everyone– but Rosalind could walk in at any second, and it wasn’t really something she wanted her assistant to witness.

            “He doesn’t hate you, Marinette, he _loves_ you. He’s been in love with you for ages. You’ve had tons of arguments, before, but he always ended up sticking at your side. He’s not leaving.”

            “We fought over meaningless things,” the young woman told her kwami. “This is serious. If Hawk Moth is indeed _Gabriel Agreste_ –”

            “You’re both ought to discover Hawk Moth’s identity sooner or later, Marinette. If he is indeed Gabriel Agreste and Adrien finds out that you’ve known all along, he’ll be even angrier at you. You did good telling him, and I’m sure he feels the same.”

            “If only I’ve been gentler… I should’ve chosen the moment better… Ugh, I can be such an idiot…”

            “Stop beating yourself up about it– It was a difficult matter to address and, honestly? I think you did well enough. Besides, if ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts, we’d have a merry Christmas…”

            “I don’t know, Tikki… I think I really messed up, this time…”

            Tikki rolled her eyes at her owner and was just about to say something when her office phone began to ring. Marinette just stared at it, frozen, with no idea what to do, all of a sudden, before her kwami just grabbed her index finger and began shaking it. “What are you doing? Pick up!”

            The young woman shook her head. “Right! Yeah, uh…” she stumbled on her words before reaching for her phone and answering it. It was Rosalind– She didn’t know if it relieved or irritated her. “Hey, Rosalind, what’s up?”

            “ _Adrien’s here to see you_ ,” her assistant announced.

            Marinette’s face went white and her heart went crazy inside her chest– and words, suddenly, were too difficult to form.

            “ _Marinette?_ ”

            “Yeah, let him in!” Tikki said instead of her owner, and Rosalind obliged immediately.

            “He came here?” Marinette wondered out loud, while Tikki took the phone from her to hang up properly.

            “See? I told you he wasn’t mad. Now, snap out of it and try to act normal.”

            “Right, right…” Marinette sighed, quickly rearranging her collar and checking in her phone camera if she had any lipstick on her teeth.

            There was a knock on the door and she stood up immediately, before letting him in.

            “Hey…” she greeted him, with a smile, but it faded away the second Adrien didn’t smile back. “Is everything o-okay?” she asked, walking around her desk and towards him, careful to leave an arm-length distance between them to avoid inconveniencing him.

            His gaze dropped and he nodded painfully, before holding out a sealed letter he had in his pocket. “Let’s get to the bottom of this,” he said, and suddenly, he looked like he hadn’t slept all night.

            “Right now?”

            “They close up early on Saturdays,” he answered. “I already canceled the teaser shooting.”

            “Are you sure about that? I mean… There’s no real rush, we can do it on Monday…”

            “I’m going,” he cut her off. “You can stay if you want.”

            “I–“ Marinette shook her head and grabbed her coat off her handstand. “Of course, I’m coming with you. L-Let’s go.”

            He seemed relieved by her decision. “My driver is waiting for us outside.”

            She was about to suggest they take her car, but thought better of it and just nodded. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Ballad of Mona Lisa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gOgpdp3lP8M)


	16. Blood Red Shoes

Adrien and Marinette waited quietly at a table for the city hall worker to return, while Tikki and Plagg hid in their respective owners’ pockets. They haven’t exchanged a word in the car, and silence hanged above their heads, crude and vicious, sharper than a sword of Damocles.

            She could say he was nervous only by the way he was twisting and untwisting his fingers, occasionally lifting one of them to his mouth to bite on his nails. He looked around, uncertain, while his leg tapped on the floor. She reached for his hand and gently closed her fingers around his, in a way that wanted to be comforting. He smiled at her shyly, but let go of her a couple seconds afterwards– She tried not to take it on herself– Adrien just needed some space, right now. Besides, if he really didn’t want her here, he wouldn’t have asked her to come with him.

            “Here you go, kids!” said the old man that saw them in, as he dumped the big box he was holding on the table, making them straighten up immediately. “Feel free to ask me if you need anything, and don’t forget that we close at noon, today. Put back everything to place and come find me when you’re done,” he instructed them.

            They both nodded at him and forced up a smile before he was gone helping out other people. Marinette didn’t exactly know why she expected the place to be empty, but she knew now how very wrong she had been– This place was packed with people, all here for different reasons, the majority, to pick up legal documents.

            The box was full with all kind of official forms, tax revenues, bank statements, certificates of accommodation, bills, letters stating all of William Longshadow’s real estate possessions, and newspapers and magazines that had him on the front page. He had a building named after him à _l'Institut d'Études Politiques de Paris_ , and ‘Longshadow’ hallways all over town, at the Ministry, City Hall, and hospitals all across the city. He made his money building luxury hotels in all of Europe and mostly investing in art and all kind of small institutions, and was renowned for throwing the best parties there were.

            What the common people didn’t know, however, was that he spent his days scouring for little independent businesses, only to bring them to the dust by managing, somehow, to cut off all forms of material deliveries, and then, buying their ownership for half its price.

            Longshadow was a shark in the industry and everyone with a right mind knew how to stay out of his way.

            “Longshadow… I can’t put my finger on it but… This name sounds oddly familiar,” Adrien remarked out loud, lifting his head up to look at Marinette.

            “William Longshadow was one of _Agreste Designs_ very first investors,” she answered him, without taking her eyes off the documents she was studying. “He was the one who introduced your father to _Edna Fashion House_ , when he just started, and who helped him built his very own fashion empire.”

            He lifted an eyebrow at her and smirked, even if she couldn’t see it. “Should I be concerned with your level of obsession? I mean, the amount of _knowledge_ on my dad’s life you have somehow stored inside your brain is… pretty impressive,” he teased her, as she finally looked up at him, and nudged him on his arm. “Come on! You’re like basically the living version of his Wikipedia page.”

            She shrugged. “You asked.”

            He let out a chuckle, shaking his head, before returning to the papers he was looking over.

            “I found something,” Marinette suddenly said, piquing on Adrien’s interest who instantly moved closer to her. “It looks like the records of every piece of art he ever owned.”

            The young man pressed his lips together. “Seems like a good place to start.”

            “Do you think his granddaughter put that list together for the auction?”

            “Do we care?”

            “She might have made another one where she actually listed the things that were sold and to whom,” Marinette suggested, before an _Eurêka!_ immediately lit up above Adrien’s head, and the latter began to scour furiously through the pile of papers he had already looked over.

            Marinette raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. “ _Le combat des Chevaliers_ , a painting by Rodolphe Rubillard, sold by Rodolphe Rubillard to William Longshadow, sold by Lily Dévereux to Dimitri Cousteau,” Adrien read out, confirming Marinette’s speculations. “I think that’s it… I just– I put it aside, not knowing what it meant but…” He let his unspoken words hang in the air.

            “Well? Keep going, then,” she urged him, leaning over in his direction. “See if there’s anything about the book.”

            “We don’t even know what it’s called,” he reminded her.

            “Then, see if anything mentions the Miraculouses,” she said.

            Adrien’s face went pallid and he gulped down audibly. “O-Okay…”

            “I can do it,” Marinette proposed, immediately sensing his discomfort. He nodded quietly and passed the paper on to her.

            She took it carefully, and started to read it silently, as she tried to ignore her boyfriend’s fidgeting– he was playing with his hair now, and the hem of his shirt, stretching his sleeves over his hands, and chewing on his bottom lip. The sound of him breathing was worrying, and he was looking around, his eyes, green, and wide, and blinking way too many times for it to appear normal. It broke Marinette’s heart to see him like this, but she knew she couldn’t exactly do anything to help the situation– he had pushed away every one of her attempts– so she just kept on reading.

            “Ancient amethyst rhinestone pin with rhodium plating and silver butterfly-shaped wings, derived from medieval China civilization,” Marinette read slowly, and she felt Tikki shifting in her pocket, before she saw her sticking her giant head out, quickly imitated by Plagg.

            “That’s it!” the little goddess piped. “That’s Nooroo’s Miraculous!”

            Marinette’s eyes found those of Adrien– she had never seen him that pale before. “Go on, please,” he said, leaning in.

            “Sold by an unregistered source to William Longshadow, sold by Lily Dévereux to…” her voice broke off, as she looked back at her boyfriend. “I-I don’t understand. It doesn’t make any s-sense…”

            An icy shiver went up Adrien’s spine. “What does it say?”

            “Felix Agreste,” she whispered, and Adrien’s world stopped.

 

***

 

From afar, the Agreste mansion just looked like another five million bucks someone would’ve sowed in the middle of Paris, and watched grow.

            It was a giant duplex surrounded by green gardens and fruit trees. The entry hall was impressive, almost entirely made of imperial black marble, specially imported from Iran, and the reception room had left thousands of people agape– expensive Louis XIV furniture, overpriced tapestry, a chess game made of solid gold, and numerous exorbitant paintings that Gabriel liked to display to show the world just how rich and powerful he really was.

            But the closer one got, the more the mansion started to resemble in shape that of a little fortress, with walls made of dragon scales and human blood. The whole place reeked of sulfur and broken hopes.

            “We’re here, Madam,” said the driver to the rearview mirror, as a car with tinted windows stopped in front of the wrought iron gates. Emilie watched her husband’s house with a feeling of guilt and fear and disgust crippling around her insides. “Should I just wait for you?”

            She shook her head. “No, but stay close by.”

            “Of course, Madam.”

            Emilie let out a deep breath, her hand slowly closing on the door handle, before she finally had the nerve to get out of the car. She walked carefully to the buzzer and pressed the button.

            “ _Who is this?_ ” called Natalie’s horrible, witchy voice– She was still here, Emilie thought with a knotted stomach. Still here, following her master like a vulgar lap dog and obeying his every wishes, as if Gabriel was a god, and she, a mere insect just lucky to serve him.

            She smiled at the surveillance camera nonetheless. “Oh, come on, Natalie. I know I’ve aged a bit, but I’m sure even you can recognize my face from all of Gaby’s terrible family portraits.”

            Natalie chocked on her own tongue, making Emilie smirk. “Mrs. Agreste, I– I’m s-sorry, I don’t know how I can… There’re no excuses, I-I…” her husband’s assistant didn’t know how to react, what to say, and Emilie could perfectly picture her rushing towards the control panel, randomly pressing on buttons combinations to get a clear image of her visitor on her surveillance screen–

            Though Emilie’s voice was nearly unmistakable– it was soft and severe at the same time, it was elegant, and poised and contained, but twinkled with the constant reminder that it could too, all at once, just rampage out of control and burn the universe altogether– and her accent, peculiar, to say the least– over the years, Emilie had tried her best to mask her rural enunciation and mingle with Parisians, but certain words’ pronunciations were too delicate for her to grasp wholly and say them like they did in the capital– Natalie just needed to make sure– It’s… it’s been _years_ …

            “Mrs. Agreste, it is really you,” the latter whispered into the microphone and Emilie rolled her eyes in annoyance.

            “Just open the damn door,” she harshly ordered Natalie.

            “O-of course, forgive me. I-I don’t…”

            “Natalie,” Emilie interrupted her, before the other woman began rambling on her words again. “I’m still standing out here in the cold, and although _fausse fourrure_ can do wonders, it doesn’t replace the fact that I’d rather be inside. I’m sure you understand.”

            “Yes, I-I understand perfectly,” Natalie sighed, as she finally pressed the button that opened the electrical gates.

            Emilie waited for her husband’s secretary to cut communication before she took in a deep breath and gathered the courage to take the first step into Agreste territories.

            She watched as the gates closed behind her, trapping her behind this giant fence of cold, beautifully bent metal, and gulped audibly in apprehension, as she walked towards the front doors, not yet ready to relive the most vivid version of her worst nightmare.

            Natalie waited for her, her hands, neatly folded behind her back, her stature straight and practiced, but her knees were shaking a little, and she was looking at a ghost she thought had exorcized a long time ago. “Mrs. Agreste, welcome back,” she bowed her head.

            Even though she had visibly aged, Emilie was still as striking as ever. Her imperial green eyes shone brightly still, full of light and warmth that the rest of her appearance failed to demonstrate. They were made of this very particular shade of green that no portraitist has yet been able to replicate and that Natalie had only ever seen on her son Adrien. Her lips were gold rose and her skin was pale and tired, just as white as the root of her hair, which she sported in a nice fishtail braid, delicately flowing on her left shoulder. She wore a white-furred coat in the middle of winter, ten-inches-long-Louboutin and a black Fossil handbag– all her outfit lacked was a splash of Gabriel and Natalie’s blood splattered across her immaculate sleeves.

            Emilie almost barked at her to shut, as she went past her and into the house, but restrained last minute. She walked towards the assistant’s front desk while the latter was busy closing back the doors behind them, then spun on her heels to turn around and face her. “Where is he?” she asked, very straightforward, not even taking the time to chew her words properly.

            “He’s busy,” the other woman replied in a rigid voice. “You are welcome to wait for him in the living room, if you wish to.”

            “You haven’t changed, have you?” Emilie cackled emptily, her hands on her hips, and Natalie had to take a step back, a little taken agape by her reaction. “I thought that you would’ve matured a bit, at least, now that you can fuck my husband in broad daylight,” Emilie snorted, as Natalie’s face went pallid at the other woman’s accusations.

            “I-I…” she tried to say, but her words failed her again.

            “You, you? …what? You can’t tell me you really thought I wouldn’t have figured it out? Funny, you didn’t strike me as an oblivious moron, before,” Emilie mocked her openly, creasing her nose in disgust as she scanned her from head to toes. “You don’t need to hide it anymore, you know, nor act so stiff and stuck up all the damn time… Can I tell you a secret?” she giggled, putting her hands around her mouth. “Gaby hates women who seem put together…” She paused, seemed to think about something, then added, “he likes vulnerability and broken girls, who aren’t afraid to lose it to their emotions.” Emilie relaxed and gestured at Natalie’s bun. “Your hair never moves… It’s _way_ too perfect,” she talked smoothly, but the tone which she employed didn’t exactly make it sound like a compliment.

            Natalie’s jaw flew open. “Mrs. Agreste, I would never…”

            “Oh, you can have him, I don’t mind,” Emilie assured her. “It’s not like I ever did, anyway,” she shrugged. Natalie looked down. “Oh, no, is that shame I sense on your face? You shouldn’t, really. How many people can actually brag about the fact that they got the great Gabriel Agreste to scream for them?” She paused, taking in the assistant’s furious blush. “Empowering, isn’t it?” she wanted to know, licking and biting her lips in a very provocative manner. “Nothing in this word is more bolstering than to bring this… this _force_ of fashion to his knees, break him, and make him beg for more.”

            “I- I’m s-sorry…” Natalie said, her voice trembling with unshed tears.

            “You have nothing to be sorry for, Natalie,” Emilie tried to reassure her, as she reached for her cheek in the most inappropriate way. She waited until the other woman looked at her in her eyes, and smiled softly at her. “Oh, Natalie, you are not the home wrecker that broke up this marriage… You’re just the whore who set me free.” She paused for what seemed like hours, and Natalie thought Emilie was going to strangle her– she didn’t think she would’ve fought back. “And for that, I am thankful.”

            “I–“ Natalie’s surprised gasp escaped her, but her gaze dropped to the ground immediately when she met Emilie’s toothy grin, and the latter let go of her, her eyes, suddenly catching on what the other woman was desperately trying to hide under her sleeve–

            Natalie wore a ring on her left hand. It was a marvelous princess cut sapphire surrounded by a set of little white diamonds that shone brightly under the office’s lights and screamed Gabriel’s tastes in jewelry. “Beautiful cage you got here,” Emilie praised her, as she looked up at her husband’s assistant. “Have you set a date, yet?” Natalie did not answer. “Well, the only advice I can give is try not to die.” There was something soft in her voice that could easily be mistaken for tenderness and made Natalie’s arms and legs turn to ice. “But you are a fool to mistake this for love,” the blond woman told her, taking a step, and Gabriel’s fiancée could breathe. “The Agreste name is worn like the needle crown of our Lord. It is a curse, and I hope you will realize it before it is too late for you. Now, go on. Tell him that I’m here and that I’m waiting.”

            Natalie hesitated for a second, but was then met with Emilie’s hateful look and had to comply. “Yes, Mrs. Agreste,” she nodded, as she turned her back at the other woman and headed towards her boss’s office.

 

***

 

“Adrien! _Adrien, wait up!_ ” Marinette shouted at her boyfriend’s back, as the latter ran through the glass doors and towards the elevator. “Fucking _hell_ ,” she swore under her breath, before she hurried after him, leaving everything on the table. “Adrien!” she called again, stretching out a hand to catch him and make him stop. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” she scolded him, frowning, as she forced him to turn around to face her.

            “I’m going to confront him, Marinette,” he said, a little loud. He chose to ignore the angry looks people were shooting at them, but tried to be quieter. “If my brother is really _Hawk Moth_ …” he mouthed the supervillain’s name, still unable to speak the words– still unable to get around the possibility that _Felix_ was his nemesis.

            “Then, what?” she cut him off. “What are you gonna do, huh? Beat the crap outta him and drag him to the police?” She shook her head, as Adrien’s expression fell. “Kitten, we need to be smart about it, okay? He’s your _brother_. Besides, you can’t just go there without a plan– If Felix is indeed Hawk Moth… then we have been battling him for six years, now. He’s smart and he knows what he’s doing. He’s _dangerous_ and he’s _always_ been one step ahead of us– He probably already knows that we’ve discovered him, or that we’re close to do it… You _can’t_ face him unprepared!” she snapped at him, grasping him at his neck, when she got the impression that he wasn’t listening to her.

            “He’s my brother… I can handle him…” he grumbled, shoving his hands down his pockets.

            “Adrien, he has a _Miraculous_. He probably has the Peacock Miraculous, too,” she insisted again with pleading eyes, trying her best to make him understand, as the elevator doors dinged open behind her.

            “Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing, both of you?” the city hall worker called after them. “You can’t just go like this, you know,” he said, making his way towards them, and Marinette shyly pulled apart from her boyfriend. “You will need to put the papers you’ve searched through back to place and sign some papers before you leave. Come with me, please.”

            “Can you give us just a minute? We’ll be right with you,” Marinette asked him, blushing slightly, as she felt Adrien shift beside her.

            The old man let out a deep sigh then turned around completely to face her way. “Pardon my language, but does the place look like a freaking fish shop to you, ma’am?” he glared at her, while a couple people who were following the exchange began to snicker discretely, but glanced away the second they were met with Marinette’s furious eyes.

            “ _Excuse me_?”

            “There are rules to follow, ma’am, and you need to be aware of them,” the old man didn’t flinch at her offended expression. “Now, you need to come with me and sort out the little mess you’ve made, before I can let you leave.”

            Marinette grumbled something between her teeth before she turned to Adrien, only to see him get into the elevator and pressing on a button, mouthing a duplicitous ‘sorry,’ before the doors closed on him.

            “Ah-ah!” the city hall worker stopped Marinette from doing the same by raising an arm to block her way, and gestured the table she was sitting at with Adrien a while ago. “Please, ma’am, after you,” he said, and urged her to go back.

            “Why did you let _him_ leave?” Marinette rolled her eyes at the man.

            “I only need one of you.”

            “Didn’t you see we were in the middle of something important?”

            The old man let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Your personal lives do not interest me. Besides, you seem easier to reason with than him. And you can still talk to him later.”

 

***

 

The first thing that came to Bridgette’s mind as she woke up on Saturday morning was that she was naked in someone else’s bedroom.

            The curtains were pulled, letting very little light into the place, and her phone was uncharged on the nightstand. She closed her eyes, as she sank back into the pillows, trying to remember how exactly did she and Felix ended up having sex on his bed, last night– I mean, she liked Felix, sure, but was this really how she wanted their relationship to start?

            Felix and she were part of the same A.A. group that met every Saturday aux Halles de Belleville. She was usually the one presiding it and thus, stayed a little later than everyone else to clean and tidy up the place, and Felix waited for her then walked her home two Saturdays in a row.

            After the _la Huchette_ fiasco, Bridgette really thought that was the last she’ll ever hear from him– he didn’t show to that week’s meeting, by the way, proving her speculations, but finally turned up at the very end, when everyone was already gone, and offered to help her close up.

            When she asked him why he had been so late, he admitted not having wanted to partake in the meeting, but still wanted to see her– also, he didn’t really know where else to find her to ask for her number. She thought it was cute and still smiled at the thought when she was reminded of it.

            They had lunch a couple of times after that and went to plays and art expositions, but Felix never tried to make a move on her– so, she just assumed he wasn’t interested. She had to admit that it bummed her out a little, because she tried her best to make it clear that she was into him, but, at the end of the day, she was content with having him just as a friend– Felix was extremely smart and was almost as passionate as she was about French literature, and art, and History. One time, she remembered it was last Thursday, they stayed on the phone up until three o’clock in the morning just talking about philosophy and politics, and she couldn’t get him out of her head for the rest of the week.

            She pressed her palms against her eyes and smiled at no one in the dark.

            Last night, she decided to walk _him_ home after a one-man show au _Théâtre du Petit Montparnasse_ , and kissed him without even thinking about it. It was an on-the-spur-of-the-moment thing, and she regretted it right away, but then, Felix had kissed her back, and kept on kissing her, until she suggested they move it upstairs.

            “Okay, Bree, snap out of it– He’s probably sick of waiting for you to wake up!” she scolded herself, as she propped herself up on an elbow and got out of bed.

            Felix’s bed was pretty comfortable– she could definitely get used to waking up in it, the random thought crossed her mind, but Bridgette shooed it away. Her clothes had been picked off the ground and folded on a chair, but she grabbed one of Felix’s t-shirts on his dresser and passed it on– she couldn’t help but feel awfully good in it.

            She walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Felix was leaning against a counter, reading something while drinking coffee. “Hey,” she greeted him with a shy wave, and he straightened up immediately, putting his book down to look at her properly.

            “Hey,” he said. “I made coffee,” he gestured to the coffee machine and the empty cup beside it.

            Bridgette nodded and poured herself a drink, before she walked over to him, and stood on her tiptoes to reach for his lips. “Did you sleep well?” she asked him, before taking a seat on a stool of his kitchen island.

            He smiled softly. “I did,” he answered simply, making her blush a little. “You?”

            She nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “What were you reading?”

            “Uh…” he looked around for his book before reaching for it and handing it to her. She smiled at no one as she read the title, _La Chute,_ by Albert Camus– she had suggested it to him, a couple days ago.

            “How do you like it, so far?” she asked.

            He shrugged. “It’s a little difficult to follow at times, but it’s definitely entertaining.”

            She snorted, drinking her coffee. “Wait until you see how it ends.”

            “Why? What happens?”

            Her smile widened but she remained silent, and hid behind her cup. “As if I’m gonna spoil it for you.”

            He chuckled and shook his head, and they proceeded to talk a little more, as Felix attempted to prepare some breakfast, while Bridgette set the table, before they just fell into a comfortable silence.

            It was easy for Felix to hang out with Bridgette– it was true that her forwardness and… enthusiasm were a little overwhelming, sometimes, to say the least, but they both had so much in common– they liked and believed in the same things, their thought processes were very similar… it was as if their brains just clicked together, and it was almost effortless for him to be comfortable around her.

            Bridgette was funny– she made him laugh so much, sometimes, out loud– and she was terribly smart and talented. Her views on life were very impressive and, when she allowed him to read what she wrote, there wasn’t one time where he wasn’t taken agape by her ideas, and the way she chose to tell the story. She was also nice to look at, but that was only a plus, and the reason why being with her felt so energizing was because Bridgette had, at some point in the past, been as broken as he was now, but she had succeeded in picking herself up and rebuilding her world– one stone at a time.

            “Can I ask you something?” Felix looked very serious all of a sudden, and Bridgette, who was just about to take a bite of her toast, refrained to do so, and put it back on her plate.

            “What’s up?” she asked, a little concerned, and he tried to smile to wipe away her worry.

            “You can totally not answer if it makes you feel uncomfortable or something but uh… I just wanted to know um… h-how…” He paused to clear his throat, before carrying on, “how did you– Why um… What made you want to be sober again?” When Bridgette showed some kind of hesitation, Felix’s hands froze and his brain began to panic. “I-I mean… uh… I know why _I_ turned to alcohol, but you… you’re so… You seem so happy, and-and positive, and p-perfect, and I just… I just can’t seem to picture you when you’re sad or in a dark place… I-I…” he let out a deep sigh before bringing his hands up to cover his eyes, “ugh… I’m sorry… I’m rambling…”

            Bridgette let out a soft giggle, as she reached over to him and took his hands in hers. She looked at him, and smiled, and he calmed down instantly. “I don’t mind talking about it at all, you know,” she assured him, but was interrupted by the sound of Felix’s doorbell. She blushed, looking down at her outfit, before she met Felix’s eyes again. “Were you expecting someone?”

            He shook his head, just as confused as she was. “N-no…”

            “Well, I would’ve had to change, anyway, so… Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she reassured him, as she got down from the stool and went back into her boyfriend’s room.

            Felix took a sip from his coffee– he had poured himself another cup– before getting to his feet and walking towards his front door. He was surprised to find Adrien waiting on his doormat– they haven’t talked, nor has either one of them tried to contact the other since the incident at Max’s– but he invited him in nonetheless.

            The latter wasted no time, as he seized his brother by his shirt’s collar and ran him into a wall.

            Felix’s eyes rounded in surprise. “A-Adrien? What the hell?” he coughed out, as he tried to wiggle out of his grip, but Adrien was angry, and not surprisingly stronger than him.

            “You really thought I wouldn’t have figured it out?” Adrien screamed at his brother, slamming him into the concrete once again, this time, a little harder. “How _could_ you?! What do you want from us?”

            “Adrien! You are not making any s–“ Felix tried to reason with him, but he was punched in the stomach before he could finish his sentence.

            “You have no right to have them, give them back, Felix,” Adrien ordered him, looking at him crouching, before he pushed him into a table. “You weren’t _chosen_.”

            “Adrien, I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Felix spat out, his face, red, as he let himself fall on the ground– he had no alcohol in his system this time to soothe away the pain. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

            Adrien tried to sound coherent– words and feelings and adrenaline were beginning to drive him mad, and his thoughts didn’t make sense anymore. “Six years ago, the Longshadow event…”

            _Adrien Agreste, the little black sheep of the family, always running away and getting into fights. His temper was a force no sane man reckoned with._

            Felix’s eyes narrowed at him and he shook his head. “You know who talks like that? A crazy person. You are talking like a fucking crazy person, Adrien!” he exclaimed, letting the back of his head fall against the wall.

            “Don’t act so damn clueless!” Adrien raged at his brother’s obvious orchestrated confusion, before he forced him onto his feet to punch him in the face. “You bought something from her!” Adrien didn’t know if he was relieved that it wasn’t his father’s name that was written on that paper– he just knew that it was easier to fight his brother. “ _Lily Dévereux._ You bought something from her!”

            Felix pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, urging his brain to remember, but there was nothing in his head but blank memories and blurred images from the day Adrien was speaking of. “I-I d-don’t remember!” he confessed, but Adrien didn’t believe him, and hit him this time in his leg, to make him lose balance and fall.

            “You bought two sets of jewelry from her,” he told him. “Two very expensive, very ancient brooches, and a book,” he said, squatting to be at his eye-level.

            “I-I guess…” Felix stuttered, and Adrien frowned again, twisting his face in such a terrifying grimace Felix thought he was looking at a demon, when a sharp noise echoed around them, and Adrien fell over, as a white, trembling Bridgette emerged from behind him, a stool in hand.

            “Oh, my God!” she cried, as she dropped her weapon and fell to her knees. Felix crawled beside her immediately and wrapped his arms around her to draw her closer. “W-what happened?” she asked him between sobs, as her boyfriend tried his best to calm her down.

            “I-I don’t know…” he said, before the unmistakable form of Marinette Dupain-Cheng appeared under his doorframe, red-eyed, and completely out of breath.


	17. Hell's Bells

Gabriel Agreste frowned at the e-mail his son has sent him to excuse his and Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s absence at the teaser shooting this afternoon, but decided to let it go– arguing with Adrien never brought anything good anyway, and any forms of conflict often resulted in him running away and disappearing for days, sometimes even weeks, and months, and the company just couldn’t afford another one of his fugues, especially this close to the upcoming event.

            Adrien wasn’t really a difficult child to content, and Gabriel just found it easier and more efficient to give him what he wanted and try and work around it instead of fighting for a lost cause and losing precious time.

            There was a knock at his door and he lifted his eyes up to see Natalie entering his office, her shoulders, very straight, and a blank expression on her face.

            “You have a visitor, Mr. Agreste,” she announced simply.

            “Well? Who is it?” Gabriel pressed her, but Natalie remained silent. “What kind of joke is this?” he scolded her, before the doors opened again, letting in the face that has been hunting Gabriel’s mind for the past fifteen years.

            “Hello, Gabriel,” it murmured, and the fashion god almost fainted. “How have you been?” The question was simple, but sent thousands of burning arrows stabbing through his body.

            His appearance had changed as well, Emilie noticed with a wince. His hair was white now and his eyes were tired. He was thinner, too, with hollow cheeks and a yellowish skin. He seemed sick and there was darkness in his eyes, a mixture of torment and lunacy. He stood straight, his hands behind his back and his chin in the air, and didn’t even move to greet his long-lost wife. His face read no emotion– Emilie recalled suddenly the reason why she chose to leave, and then to stay away, even after her lover’s betrayal– the realization hit her like a needle to her foot.

            “Natalie,” Gabriel called on his assistant, “would you please take Emilie’s coat from her and close the door on your way out?” He spoke calmly, talked in a very polite way, as if he was addressing an employee, not a woman he was engaged to.

            Natalie’s face fell. “S-sir?” she hesitated, foolish enough to hope that she had misheard, misunderstood him, but she had to abide by him when he shot her a harsh look, reminding her of her position. Emilie watched the exchange with revolted eyes and instantly wanted to keep her coat to save Natalie from the humiliation, but the latter only bowed her head and whispered a broken plea into the other woman’s ear, to make her comply with Gabriel’s order.

            Natalie managed to exit the room without shedding a single tear, and Emilie never felt colder than the instant she turned back to face her husband. He took a slow step towards her, walked around his working table, but kept a safe distance between them.

            Emilie didn’t dare to move– she could act tough all she wanted, when she was met with monster eyes, she was but a little butterfly with torn wings, fluttering weakly around hellfire.

            “Where have you been?” he asked her, his voice, soft.

            Emilie forced herself to relax– but she knew she had been heading downhill the instant she had walked past the wrought iron gates. “Oh, you know, around,” she replied evasively, her smirk sharp like an insult. “Vienna, Baden… I even spent some time in Prague. Do you remember Prague, Gaby?” she wondered with wide innocent eyes, and didn’t miss his stiffening at the nickname– he’s always hated it. She smiled at the little victory.

            “Of course, I remember Prague,” he replied simply, extremely careful with his words, and even though Emilie was perfectly familiar with the fact that Gabriel Agreste wasn’t defeated that easily, she still wanted to play.

            “We were so young… You had this _awful_ beard,” she carried on, faking nostalgia, as she made her way towards him, and proceeded to take place on the sofa. “We walked around the city all day long with all of our luggage and no money, we were just so lucky that we were able to find that place, which was still open in the middle of the night, where we were able to exchange currency in order to afford a room.” She paused and gestured to the empty place next to her. “I was so tired, and hungry, when we finally got to the hotel, then so _angry_ when they refused to check us in because it was after hours…”

            “They threatened to call the police but you still didn’t budge and refused to leave,” Gabriel continued for her, taking place beside her. “You threatened to ruin their reputation, assured them that they will never get another client and that you will only return when they will declare bankruptcy to buy the whole establishment for a pittance.” It sounded like an accusation, but they both knew how much they missed those careless times.

            She shrugged. “It worked,” she reminded him, chuckling. “Do you remember what we did next?”

            “Do you mean before, or after we trashed the hotel room and stole their robes and slippers and countless bottles of shampoo?” he teased her, and there was he, she noted as her heart skipped a beat, her husband, the love of her life, buried under six feet of ice and taciturnity.

            “I meant before _and_ after,” she said, suave, and flirty, and Gabriel almost blushed. He looked down as she scooted closer to him and didn’t move when her hand found itself on his knee. “Did you miss me?”

            “Every second,” his answer was quiet, like a whisper, as he smiled and leaned into her.

            His lips scorched her skin and his flesh seemed dead under her palms, but her jaws parted to accept the kiss. For Emilie, kissing Gabriel Agreste was a very natural thing to do. It was like getting up in the morning, shower, eat, laugh, or cry. Kissing him was normal and brought all kinds of memories back to life– Emilie couldn’t deny it if she wanted it– she had been in love with this man, and a part of her will always be dedicated to him, like a souvenir, or an homage to everything they shared– but, as she moved even closer to him to deepen the kiss, and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck, she realized that she had no desire to come back for another one.

            Now, his tongue was something like a muscular eel worming its way into her mouth and, as he pulled apart to kiss his way to her ear, she had to fight the urge to wipe his thick saliva from around her lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighed into her hair, as her fingers cleverly made their way around his tie to tug it off.

            _There was it_ , Emilie thought to herself, but just when she was about to put her hands on his Miraculous, Gabriel violently seized her by her forearms and yanked her off of him, into the cushions.

            A terrified gasp escaped her and her eyes began to water, but Gabriel chose to ignore it and got to his feet, rearranging his attire, as if nothing has happened.

            He regained his working space without a word, and watched, as Emilie tried to recompose herself.

            “Only prostitutes exchange carnal favors for ransom, Emilie,” he told her harshly. “And only harpies use their sensuality to seduce and torment men’s minds.”

            “Funny you would say that,” she snorted, “for I recall you were the one who taught me how to use my body to my advantage,” she accused him, but he remained stoic.

            “Indeed,” he replied. “I guess I’ve never pictured you using your acquired _skills_ against me.”

            He seemed hurt– Well, lots of good _that_ does her. “So it is true, then… are you really the one after the Ladybug and the Black Cat’s Miraculouses?” He didn’t respond– he didn’t even ask her how she knew about Miraculouses. “Why? What could you possibly want that you don’t already have?” she almost laughed.

            “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes. “I want another chance.”

            There was nothing romantic in his words and Emilie looked at him with a disgusted grimace. “Couldn’t you have just asked?” her voice was shaking now and, as she tried to get up, she realized that standing on her feet was much more difficult at this particular moment, than it had been throughout her entire life.

            “I didn’t know where you were,” Gabriel shook his head. “I scoured the Earth for you, but you just… It was like you _disappeared_. And besides, would you have even considered me?”

            Her eyes widened at his question’s implications. “You can’t _make_ me love you, Gabriel!” she blurted out, horrified by the turn of situation.

            “Of course, I can,” he said in such a neutral way, Emilie just wanted to run over to him and scratch his eyes out. “Once I will hold the earrings of the Ladybug and the ring of the Black Cat in my hands, I will be granted the power to alter reality.”

            “You can’t be serious,” Emilie breathed, her hand clutching on her heart, as she finally began to cry. “I-I won’t _let_ you…”

            He snickered. “Well, the real beauty in this whole process, my dear Emilie, is that you don’t have to.”

            “Give them back!” she screamed at him, her veins suddenly pumping fear and terror and madness, as she took the green ottoman next to the sofa and threw it in her husband’s direction. “They’re _mine_! Give them back this instant!”

            “When people really want something, they have to learn to swallow their pride and say ‘ _please_ ,’” Gabriel scolded her, before he pressed on some buttons he had dissimulated amongst the lines of Emilie’s Klimt inspired painting and disappeared into the ground.

            “NO!” she let out a despaired cry, as she rushed toward the painting and tried to find said buttons. But her efforts were in vain, and she finally fell on her knees, crushed under the weight of fatigue and hopelessness. “P-please,” she whined in a ridiculously small voice, as a tentative arm wrapped around her in a clumsy yet comforting way.

            Emilie rested her head on Natalie’s shoulder, and cried into the other woman’s clothes, while her husband’s new fiancée tried her best to reassure her.

            “You’re just as mad as he is for letting this happen,” Emilie accused her. “You, you– love-struck _twat_!”

            Natalie didn’t reply anything to that, and kept on shushing the blond woman’s sobs, before the latter was strong enough to be led into the living room.

 

***

 

When Adrien opened his eyes, he was in a moving car and his bodyguard was driving. His head was laid against the headrest and, as he tried to move it, a strike of pain hit him at the back of his skull, running all the way towards the base of his neck. “Wha- _Ow!_ ” he hissed, rubbing his nape to try and lessen the stinging sensation.

            “Yeah, careful with that… Bridgette hit you pretty hard– Do you remember what happened?” Marinette asked him in a seemingly calm voice, as she turned his way to face him, but Adrien knew she was biting on her anger.

            “Vaguely,” he sighed, shrugging– he didn’t ask her who Bridgette was.

            “You lost consciousness,” she said. “You might have a concussion. We’re driving you to the emergency rooms,” she announced, discretely gesturing to her boyfriend’s bodyguard, who was mumbling inaudible sentences under his breath.

            “I don’t have a concussion,” Adrien assured her, shaking his head. “I’ve hit my head enough times in my life to know how one feels like,” he explained, before he convinced his driver to change their itinerary– Marinette frowned at him, but complied, and gave the Gorilla her home address. “Anyway… What happened?” he asked after a few seconds of heavy silence.

            “Wha- _What happened_?!” she almost screamed at him, her cheeks red now, and she was grasping her bag straps so tightly, Adrien saw her knuckles turn white. “Well, basically, you _hulked up_ and stormed right out of City Hall, leaving me there without a ride, _might I add_ , so I had to deal with this fucking– _ugh_! This fucking staff member by myself before I could finally leave– Then, I had to find a dark alley to transform,” she said in a lower voice, even though she knew the Gorilla didn’t care enough to listen to their little lovers’ squabble, “and follow your ass to keep you from doing anything too stupid!” she scolded him, suddenly refusing to look at him, and preferring to rage at the road in front of her. “You don’t know how lucky you were that Bridgette was here to stop you, or you would’ve probably broken Felix’s jaw! What the actual fuck, Adrien?! Care to explain?”

            “I–“ Adrien tried to say something, but Marinette cut him off immediately, way too wired up to bring herself to even listen.

            “You _cannot_ go around beating people when you’re upset, Adrien! You are a superhero, for heaven’s sake! Where is your damned sense of morality?!”

            “ _My_ sense of morality? Are you serious, right now? What about _him_?” he reminded her harshly, and now it was his turn to face away from her. “He’s spent years terrorizing the city and all that to… what? Access ultimate power? Run over the world? Become immortal? We _still_ don’t know what he wants! How are you even defending him?”

            Marinette took in a deep breath before she said, careful to separate each syllable to allow her words to sink in properly, “Felix is _not_ Hawk Moth. He can’t be. It just- it doesn’t make any sense.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry… Did I misread the name on the document? He’s the one who bought the brooches, Marinette. We have black on white written evidence!”

            “It still doesn’t mean anything,” she grumbled against the window, but she said it loud enough for him to be able to hear her.

            “But if it was my father’s name on the document, then you wouldn’t have had any doubts, right?” he pestered, folding his arms together.

            _Okay, now, you’re just being petty_ , Marinette thought to herself, as she rolled her eyes at him. “Would you have raced back to the mansion and almost beat him to death if it was?” She paused, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. “Felix got hurt during an akuma attack, a few years back. Do you remember the crazy dog guy?” Adrien nodded thoughtfully– Marinette and he have had their share of fighting ridiculous akumas in the past years, and _Labrathor_ was definitely one of them. Although Adrien could see where his cause could've been considered honorable– the victim was working as a volunteer for the SPA Animal Rescue and an active militant against the euthanasia of cats and dogs in shelters due to overcrowding– running around the city with a pack of giant, starving dogs wasn’t exactly the best way to uh… raise awareness. “Well, Felix was bitten by a hellhound. He couldn’t walk for a month– he had to work from home, only because he managed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time... I uh… wasn’t fast enough... But he was lucky, I think. He could’ve lost a leg,” she tried to be as gentle as possible with her words, but the surprise and pain and regret were still very much visible on her boyfriend’s face.

            “I-“ his voice died before he was able to say anything.

            He didn’t know– Of course, he didn’t know. It’s been years since Felix and he last had a real conversation– and there were so little things he still knew about his brother anyway.

            He shook his head, dropped his gaze, and Marinette scooted over to him, softly reaching out to place a hand on his arm, encouraging him with a warm smile. “Felix and I… we grew up at each other’s throats– I was always kind of a cunt to him and he always knew just how to get on my last nerve… Needless to say, it usually ended up in huge fights, but then… we’ll both be sorry, and that was… it. We’d be brothers- _best friends_ \- again.”

            He paused. His eyes were full of tears, but he held them in– he didn’t really feel comfortable crying in front of his bodyguard of all people.

            “I thought that uh… the- The sooner I confronted him, the sooner everything will be over and I’ll have my brother back, you know?” he snorted. “He has been so closed up these past few years… I… it just- it kinda made sense, you know? That he would be Hawk Moth- and that he just needed someone to knock some sense into him. A-and if Felix was to be Hawk Moth- it would’ve meant that his shutting me out wouldn’t- _couldn’t_ have been ah… _my_ fault. Right?” Marinette rested her free hand against his cheek, her face, soft. He smiled, for just a second, before his green eyes darkened and his expression was serious, focused, once again. “It’s not the same with my father… I uh… when I fight with him, I end up _leaving_ , and he doesn’t even try to rush after me, like he doesn’t care- he just- he lets me go, without ever trying to reach out. If I was to never come back… I don’t think it would make such a d-difference. I mean- there are plenty of blond models with green eyes- _way_ better looking than me… It’s not like the company would really miss me, anyway. Besides, he didn’t even flinch when Felix left. And… I know it’s dumb but I- I just can’t lose another person, you know? It’s just easier to reconcile with Felix, than it is with my father.”

            A minute of silence elapsed and Adrien was breathing heavily– he’s always been the first one to talk about how Hawk Moth was going to face the Supreme Court and pay for his crimes but now… he just didn’t think he could throw his brother or his father in jail and just… live with it.

            “Kitten, look at me,” Marinette requested, and he complied immediately. She took his face in both her hands and pressed a long kiss against his forehead. “You are _so_ smart, i-it makes me jealous sometimes,” she chuckled, and he glanced away, blushing a bit. “You are the kindest, bravest, most selfless person I have ever met, and I am _so_ lucky to have you in my life. And if your father can’t realize that, then… _screw_ him. You’re worth so much more than what he’s giving you,” she told him, as her fingers gently grazed his hair. “I want you to know that.”

            “Thank you,” he whispered, meeting her eyes again, and his cheeks were hot under her palms.

            She smiled, as she leaned in to kiss his lips slightly. “We’re home,” she breathed against his skin, when the car stopped in front of her building. “Are you okay walking? You’ve got hit pretty badly.”

            Adrien smirked at her, suddenly looking more like Cat Noir than himself. “Come on, Bugaboo, you know I’m tougher than that,” he teased her, puffing out his chest.

            Marinette rolled her eyes at his antics and thanked the Gorilla before getting out of the car. Adrien gave him the rest of the day off, before following after his girlfriend, and they both watched him drive away.

            “Are you staying over, tonight?” Marinette asked out loud, as she scoured her handbag for her keys, trying her best not to wake up a sleeping Tikki.

            “Unless you don’t want to,” Adrien replied, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her on the sidewalk– that wasn’t enough precaution though, because she ended up falling anyway, her chin, heavily colliding with the concrete, as sharp wave of pain hit her in the stomach.

            “ _Shit!_ ” she cried, as she placed her palms on the floor to try and get up, but the pain was too much, and she only managed to pull herself into a sitting position.

            “Marinette? Marinette! Are you alright?” Adrien was already on his knees, his hands on her neck, forcing her head up to look at him. She placed a hand on her abdomen and his face paled in horror as he saw drops of blood staining her shirt. “Y-you’re bleeding…”

            “I tripped over broken glass,” she explained, pressing her palm against her wound. “I don’t think it’s anything serious though…,” she added, as she tried to get up again.

            Adrien held her down, as he passed an arm around her shoulders and another one under her knees and lifted her up, like she was nothing, not forgetting the handbag that was still on the floor– Tikki was up now, and she handed him the keys to Marinette’s apartment, before she landed on her owner’s shoulder, hoping that her optimism and white energy will keep the wound from getting bigger.

            “What exactly are you doing?” Marinette giggled, as she wrapped her free arm around his neck.

            “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you walk like that?”

            “I’ve had worse, you know,” she reminded him. “That’s nothing.”

            “Why are you always so against the idea of me taking care of you, huh?” he tsked, as they tried to get into the elevator– it was too narrow for them to enter this way but, before Marinette could convince him to let her down, Adrien decided to take the stairs– she only lived on the second floor and if he was strong enough to keep Paris safe from akumas, then he was strong enough to carry his girlfriend up all the way to her apartment.

            “You’re just being ridiculous,” she let him know, before they were in front of her door. Seeing him struggling to open it, Tikki flew off Marinette’s shoulder and made herself helpful, before she led Plagg towards her favorite spot next to the kitchen window, leaving the two lovebirds alone. “Bathroom,” Marinette replied, when Adrien asked her where she kept her first aid kit. “Adrien, really, I can handle it from here. You don’t need to see that…” she insisted again, but he just made her sit down on the toilets, as he searched her cupboards for disinfectants and gauze.

            “You thought I’ve never seen blood before? Besides, I recall having already fixed you up, once,” he added with a wink. “The injury is almost invisible now,” he complimented himself, as he finally put his hands on his girlfriend’s kit, and turned her way to kneel in front of her. He gestured for her to take off her jacket, but she just looked at the ground, feeling particularly uneasy.

            “This was different- I was in a rush.”

            He lifted an eyebrow at her. “M’Lady, just relax. You don’t need to act all tough all the time, you know.”

            “I just…”

            “Hush,” he interrupted her. “Off with the jacket now, _and_ the shirt.” Marinette only did half of what she was told, blushing furiously suddenly, and avoiding Adrien’s gaze. “Bug, I need access to the wound, you know… I mean, sure, I’m awesome, but I can’t perform miracles…” She would’ve hit him, he was sure– he was at least expecting a light nudge on his arm– if she wasn’t acting so… off. “Marinette, what is it?” he asked softly.

            “I-“ her words died on her tongue, and tears began to bloat up her throat.

            After maybe a minute of Adrien refusing to bug off, she sighed, grave, and took off her top. She saw the way his eyes widened, and began to water, as his fingers traced over her cicatrix, recognizing his own claw marks.

            “W-when?” She didn’t answer. “ _When_?” he asked again, more pressing, frowning at the scar, as his first tears rolled on his cheeks.

            “Six months ago.”

            Adrien shook his head to regain composure and started to clean Marinette’s newest wound. She hissed under the antiseptic’s effects and, when he asked her for her needles and surgical seams, she just handed him a tube of medical glue, briefly explaining to him how to apply it.

            “I know what you’re thinking,” she told him, as he covered the wound with bandages. He looked over at her– his eyes were red and wet, and she hated this look on him. “You weren’t yourself.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “I-“

            He waited for her to provide him with an answer, but she just glanced away, starting to button-up her shirt– he didn’t let her. “Why didn’t you tell me, Marinette?” he asked again, his voice a little louder.

            “I-I couldn’t, okay?!” she almost screamed at him. “What d-did you want me to say, anyway? That your Cataclysm nearly _killed_ me?!” She regretted her words as soon as she spoke them, as she saw Adrien’s face turn even whiter than her bathroom tiles. She immediately reached for his face, keeping him from looking away from her. “B-because that’s not true! Adrien, please, listen to me! Y-you didn’t do anything, okay? It was Hawk Moth’s doing- He was _controlling_ you. You weren’t _yourself_ … P-please…” she whispered, running her hands through his hair, his cheeks, his neck and shoulders to keep him from fainting– he looked like he was about to collapse.

            “I-“ his voice broke off. He tried again. “I’m s-so _sorry_ ,” he said, before he burst into tears.

            Marinette was quick to bring him against her, wrapping her arms around his head, as his, laid awkwardly at his sides. “Shhh…”

            “I can’t… I can’t believe I did that to you and that… I- I almost lost you…”

            “You didn’t!” she insisted again, more forcefully this time. “And I’m here now, I’m okay. Everything’s fine. Kitten, all is fine…”

            It took a while for him to stop shaking and a little more for him to wrap his arms around Marinette’s waist. His face was pressed against her half-naked chest and he was still crying into her skin.

            “I’m sorry I left you alone at City Hall,” he said, drawing her even closer to him.

            “Don’t be silly,” she snorted, before the akuma alarm went off somewhere in the heart of the city.


	18. Dragons and Gold

The restaurant was vacant but there was still a woman dressed in a beautiful red dress on the stage, singing along to a soft music playing in the background, and clutching to her mike, so hard, her knuckles were milk white, as she tried to let go of the frustration of performing for the umpteenth time this month in front of empty tables and chairs– even the waiters had the habit to hang out in the kitchens with the cooks, and, occasionally, one of them would walk back in to see if any customers had decided to show up.

            Everyone who worked here knew her songs by heart and she could feel it sometimes that most of them were getting tired of hearing the same lyrics over and over again– There wasn’t anything she could do about it, really. Like everyone else here, she was only trying to make money and survive, and just considered herself lucky that she even landed on that job in the first place.

            _La grenouille_ was one of the many restaurants Lily Dévereux’s family owned across town, and was maybe the one that had the lowest revenue at the end of the month– already, Lily had to dismiss half of her staff members, and Marylou had to face the truth eventually; she was going to go next– she knew it the second she saw Lily enter the restaurant and quietly take place at a table, as she ordered a dry whiskey.

            Marylou kept singing, of course– she would keep singing until Lily would ask her to stop, or her time was up and her co-workers decided to close up and leave– and she was barely starting her second song when Lily finally decided to gesture at her. She would’ve had stopped, she swore, if a client hadn’t walked right into the restaurant at that very moment. It was the first one Marylou had seen this week, so she decided to push her limits and fire up her performance– maybe it would actually convince him to stay and order something, and he would like the food and the music so much that it would persuade him to come back, this time, bringing some friends along– with a simple song, Marylou would have saved the future of the restaurant…!

            Lily didn’t interfere and just watched her openly disobey her wishes as she idly sipped on her drink– Marylou took it as a good sign and went on, smiling even wider, and even winging a couple of completely improvised dance moves that almost made her slip more than once– but she didn’t care because Sylvia just walked out of the kitchen and was heading toward the customer, menus in hand, ready to show him to _La grenouille_ ’s best table.

            The hearing of a single sound clap was a bit awkward when she was done, but Marylou took it, bowed, even, as she was quick to imagine a room packed with people, all cheering for her. A side-glance toward where Lily was sitting kept her from singing another song, however, and she got off the stage, still extremely proud of what she had just accomplished.

            The man that was the only customer in the restaurant immediately got out of his chair then, and ran toward Marylou, holding an old C.D. album with her face and her name on the cover in one hand, and a pen in the other, that he handed her with a nervous smile, silently asking her for an autograph.

            Marylou was so surprised and flattered, she forgot about Lily’s prior demand and immediately complied with that of her fan– Little to say that this bit profusely irritated her boss, who got up suddenly, and walked toward them, frowning, and with a closed expression.

            “Excuse me, but what do you think is happening here?” she asked them, glaring at her employee.

            “I am sorry, _Lily_ ,” Marylou apologized, but she was still smiling widely, still astonished by her new found fan. “I just… I cannot upset my fans, I’m sure you understand that,” she was speaking proudly, and with a very condescending tone that made Lily even angrier.

            “Oh, well, I am very surprised that your awful music managed to catch the eye of even one person– I don’t even know where he got the will to look for your C.D. album because I am quite sure that even the most skilled explorer wouldn’t be able to find it in the back shop of the _Fnac_ ,” she commented meanly, “but then again, I think there is very little a man wouldn’t do in order to get into a woman’s pants.”

            Marylou looked at her boss in complete disbelief and handed back the C.D. to her fan, blushing furiously and instantly looking down, and all she was wishing for right now was to turn into a shadow and slip away.

            Unlike her, however, the man refused to stay silent. “Hey, what the fuck is your problem?” he asked Lily in a big voice, maybe to scare her off a bit.

            The latter wasn’t even remotely impressed. “My problem is that I own this place, which you are now _definitely_ banned from,” she said, and she knew she didn’t mean it, but she just wanted this man to step out of this conversation and leave, for it wasn’t any of his business.

            The man’s face whitened. “W-what?”

            “Marylou, here, works for me,” she continued, ignoring him, “but is now demoted to part-time. I can’t have a _has-been_ singer to be my restaurant’s main source of entertainment now, can I? I’m sure you understand, Marylou. Don’t you?”

            “B-but…! Mrs. Dévereux, I’m _already_ working here part-time…”

            “Oh.” Lily seemed to wonder about something for a little while, before she just said, “then you’re fired,” and turned away.

            “Mrs. Dévereux, _please_! Don’t do that! I- I didn’t mean to disrespect you in any way… I was just trying to get the customer to stay! You have to believe me– I can’t afford to lose a job, I _beg_ you to reconsider!” Marylou almost dropped to her knees in front of her boss, but a voice in her head warned her it would only make the situation even worse.

            “I will reconsider,” Lily agreed after a couple of seconds, as Marylou relaxed a bit. “I’d rather shut the whole place down.”

            Marylou’s eyes almost popped right out of her head. “W-what?”

            “The place is constantly vacant and is making me lose a terrible amount of money. I only kept investing in it because I cared for my employees and was hopeful for the future of this restaurant,” she explained calmly. “But now I see the kind of ungrateful, disrespectful little brats that work here, and suddenly, I understand why customers tend to avoid this place.”

            “You can’t do that! Some of us have worked here for over twenty years! I-I…”

            “And I’m sure they will be able to find another job if they look hard enough,” Lily interrupted her harshly. “Now, get out of my way. Someone is waiting for me outside.”

            And just like that, Lily was gone, and Marylou was left alone in the room– the man had left immediately after his encounter with Lily. She was still looking at the ground, as she walked towards the stage to gather up her stuff and only saw that Sylvia had witnessed the whole scene when she finally lifted her head up. Her eyes sparkled with tears and she jumped back when she realized Marylou had noticed her, before she just ran back toward the kitchen, looking like she was about to announce the bad news to everybody.

            “Sylvia, no! _Wait_!” Marylou ran after her, but it was too late when she got to the back of the restaurant, and all her colleagues were gathered up around Sylvia, listening to what she had to say.

            “… and if you are looking for someone to blame for all of that, it’s _her_!” she accused Marylou, pointing her finger at her. “She’s the one that angered Mrs. Dévereux to a point that made her give up on us all! _She_ ’s the reason we’re all jobless now!”

            “That’s not true!” Marylou tried to defend herself. “I-I swear- I… I didn’t mean to…”

            “But you did anyway! You just had to try and outtalk Mrs. Dévereux,” Sylvia replied, furious. “Has no one ever told you to shut your fucking mouth when your boss reprimanded you? I saw the whole thing,” she pursued, looking at each waiter and each cook. “Mrs. Dévereux told her to stop singing and come see her, but Marylou didn’t listen and stayed on stage. Then, she ignored her a second time when she was talking to that guy– who didn’t want to order anything, by the way– and after that, she just spoke to her in such a disrespectful manner, calling her by her first name, and not even turning toward her or acknowledge her presence in any way, I was surprised to see Mrs. Dévereux taking it so well.” She paused, crossed her arms together, and glared at Marylou like she wanted to kill her. “It’s all _your_ fault! You don’t even have a say in this. Now get out of here! We want nothing to do with you!”

            “Yeah, get your stuff and get out!” said someone in the crowd.

            “We lost our jobs because of you! Get out!” screamed someone else.

            “Get out, get lost! Get out, get lost!” the crowd began to cheer and Marylou just watched in despair, before she finally found the willpower to turn and run away.

            She stumbled into the restaurant’s back alley and fell in a puddle of dirty water, before she just broke down in tears, and was taken over by the dark magic of a little purple butterfly.

            “ _Oblivion_ , _I am Hawk Moth_ ,” a strong, compelling voice spoke inside Marylou’s head. “ _You were a shining star and the stage was your sky. Now, you’re nothing but a supernova, and your light is but ancient history. How about an explosive comeback, to remind the whole world of the talent they were so quick to forget? I only ask for one thing in return. I want you to bring me Ladybug and Cat Noir’s Miraculouses. Can you do that for me?_ ”

            Marylou tried to fight it the first few seconds, but Hawk Moth’s emprise over her was too powerful, it hurt her, even, to resist it, and, at that very moment, she didn’t exactly have any positive emotions to hang on to, so, she just gave in, with a mad smile on her face. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

 

***

 

“Felix, _wait_! Stop! You can’t go outside!” Bridgette cried after him, as she rushed toward the door of his apartment to stand between her boyfriend and the hallway. “You heard the akuma alarm! You _can’t_ leave,” she said again, in a steadier voice, but her eyes shone with unshed tears and her knees were shaking and Felix knew just how much she was afraid to let him go.

            “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Don’t worry about me.”

            “But I _do_!” she exclaimed, pushing him away from the exit. “You need to stay here and wait for Ladybug and Cat Noir to ring the safety bell. You can go after Adrien, _afterward_.”

            Felix closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Bridgette was extremely stubborn, sometimes to the point where she simply refused to even consider another viewpoint or perspective than her own… She just saw him getting beaten up by his brother– the same brother Felix was desperately trying to reach right now– and was concerned with his safety– _of course_ , she wouldn’t let him get out of her sight. “Come with me,” he said, and opened his eyes just in time to see her whole expression change, her face softening, and her eyes, opening widely, filling up with fear and confusion.

            “W-what?” she barely managed to choke out.

            “You come with me,” he said, as he took her coat off his coat hanger and handed it to her, before he searched for his keys on the counter, “and you’ll see that there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” He was lying– He knew it, and he knew she knew he was lying, but he still decided to go along with it.

            She began to shake her head slightly. “Felix, I…”

            “Bree, _please_ ,” he interrupted her. “Something is up with my brother– If you were me, and if Adrien was any of your siblings, would you be able to stand back and do nothing?”    Bridgette’s lips parted and she was about to say something, but words refused to flow out and she remained silent. “Then, how can you ask me to stay here, when I know he might be in trouble?” He paused. “You saw the look on Marinette’s face– I– in _six years_ – I don’t think I ever saw her this… _afraid_.”

            “Do you think something may have happened with your father?”

            Felix shrugged. “Maybe– yeah, it’s very possible. Adrien was never really the best at… uh… _handling_ our father’s antics… but I… I’ve never seen him so… so _out_ of control. I mean… we’re used to him running away and getting into fights, but I… I just– I don’t know. I have this weird feeling that something bad is about to happen, you know?”

            Bridgette didn’t speak, she simply nodded and took her boyfriend’s hand, as he guided her out of his apartment and to his car. They got in without a word and Felix began to drive.

            The streets were empty, at first– everyone was already in their houses, hiding– and Felix found himself hoping that he and Bridgette will be able to make it to the Agreste mansion in one piece when the first explosion detonated.

 

***

 

“Ladybug! In here!” screamed a civilian who was stuck under a huge pile of rocks. “Please! M-my sister… she’s– she’s still in there…” he tried to cough out, as Ladybug managed to free his legs and get him to his feet. “You need to get her out, Ladybug,” he begged, “She’s just a child. She must be so scared… Her name’s Olivia– _Livvy_. We call her Livvy. _Please…_ ”

            “Don’t worry, we’ll get her,” Ladybug promised with a confident smile. “But you need to get to a safe place, first– I can’t be in there worrying about your safety _and_ Livvy’s at the same time.” The boy seemed unconvinced. “What’s your name?” Ladybug asked gently.

            “Tyler,” he said in a low voice. “T-Ty. My name’s Ty.”

            Ladybug placed her hand on Tyler’s shoulder and squeezed softly– he looked up instantly. “Do you trust me, Ty?”

            The latter’s answer was almost instantaneous. “Of course, Ladybug!” He even sounded a little defensive– but Ladybug took it as a compliment.

            “Then you know I’ll do everything in my power to get Livvy out of here and back to you, don’t you?” He nodded, nervously biting on his lower lip. “Now, go. The firemen are taking everyone to City Hall. You’ll be safe there, and this is where I will be taking Livvy when I get her out of here, okay?”

            “Okay, Ladybug,” he whispered. “Thank you,” he said, before running down the street, following the small crowd of people that were led to the political center of the capital.

            Ladybug turned toward the pile of rocks and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Olivia! Livvy! Are you in there?” she called out.

            “Yes! I-I’m fine!” Livvy’s small voice answered back. “I’m just _s-stuck_!” A pause. “I’m right here! Right behind the main door… Please, hurry!”

            The spotted superheroine let out a frustrated sigh as she tried to get through, but huge chunks of sliced concrete and enormous, hefty stones were blocking all of the building’s entries– the top of the building looked like it had been crushed in someone’s fist, making it impossible for her to get in through a window. She circled the building thrice, tried to get the rocks out of her way, but they were too heavy for her to lift on her own. “Livvy! I need you to stay where you are and stay calm, and I need you to know that I’m coming for you! Can you do that?”

            It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go, anyway. “Yes! Please! I think the ceiling is beginning to crumble! Ladybug! _Help me_!”

            Ladybug flinched, then used her yo-yo to try and move as many rocks as possible– little to say that it was in vain. “Cat Noir!” she cried in her partner’s direction. “I need a little help, here!”

            Cat Noir, who, with his stick, was trying to hold up the ceiling of the building hall that was opposite to her, waiting, and forcing himself to resist, until everyone got out safely, couldn’t help a wince when he heard her. “I’m a little _ocupado_ at the moment, M’Lady!” He let out an exhausted sigh. “How about you help me, and I help you _then_?”

            “Thank you, Cat Noir!” exclaimed a man, holding a crying toddler in his arms, as he ran out of the building as quickly as possible.

            “Come on, Clo, keep up! We need to get out of here!” mumbled another one that was coming down the stairs, one child in each arm, as he urged his eldest daughter to be faster.

            “Where’s Daddy Danny?” asked one of them.

            “Dan’s already at City Hall,” the man assured his son. “He texted me a little while ago… come on, everyone, he must be worried sick.”

            “I’m here!” Clo– Cat Noir only assumed her name was Clotilde– said, and the man smiled at her before rushing toward the exit.

            “Wait!” Cat Noir called after them, making Clotilde turn around. She must’ve been thirteen or fourteen, at most, with big orange hair and a face full of freckles. “Do you know if there’s still anyone up there?” he asked her.

            Clotilde put her arms around herself and said, avoiding the superhero’s gaze, “I-I didn’t see Mrs. Rollinde get out yet– I think she’s still in her apartment.”

            Cat Noir nodded grimly. “On which floor does she live in?”

            “She lives on the fourth but… B-but, wait!” Clotilde instantly panicked when she saw Cat Noir move his stick from where it was holding the whole building together. “If you leave, the– the whole building will crumble! Y-You… you won’t be able to get to her in time…!”

            Cat Noir shot her a very smug look that made her blush red. “Come on, have a little faith,” he said, and, in barely a split of a second, he managed to get Clotilde out of the building hall, safely, and grab a weirdly shaped piece of metal that he used to shield himself from the falling rocks, as he lifted himself up to the fourth floor, to reach Mrs. Rollinde’s apartment– outside, Ladybug’s yo-yo was keeping the whole mess from falling apart.

            He figured it was the one with the door buried under a pile of rocks and debris and rushed toward it, pushing everything out of his way with an energy that he didn’t think he still had, and swung it open, only to come face to face with a terrified elderly woman, dressed entirely in pink and white, who only calmed down when she recognized the masked superhero.

            “Oh, Mr. Cat Noir, you’re finally here! I really thought it was the end, this time!” she was quick to thank him, and God, as she made her way to him, and locked her arms around his neck. “Lord Almighty! I cannot believe my luck!”

            “Don’t worry, Mrs. Rollinde,” Cat Noir assured her, as he carefully patted on her back, “we’ll get you out of here.”

            “ _Please_ ,” Mrs. Rollinde complained, as she took a long look at Cat Noir– her arms were still on his shoulders, making him a bit uncomfortable, he had to admit, but he tried his best not to let show any of it. “My husband has been dead for over a decade, now. Call me Imogen.”

            Cat Noir pressed his lips together and tried to smile– but it seemed a little weird, and it made Imogen just laugh out loud.

            The vibrations caused new rocks to fall behind them, blocking their established way out, and they could hear Ladybug shout for them to hurry the Hell up.

            Immediately, Cat Noir began to scan the interior of the living room for a window that wasn’t obstructed by any fallen furniture, and passed a hand under Imogen’s knees to lift her up in his arms, before carefully making his way around the broken ceramic on the floor, and keep himself from touching any cracked wall.

            “I hope you’re not afraid of heights because we’re about to take the plunge,” he told her, popping the window open with his stick and passing one leg, then the other, over the edge of it. When Imogen’s smile became even wider, and she began to squeeze him harder against her, Cat Noir felt the need to add, “No, not in that way. I’m afraid I’m already spoken for.”

            Imogen pouted. “What a shame,” she remarked, as she hid her face in his chest when he readied himself to jump. “You just broke half of Paris’s hearts.”

            Cat Noir smiled shyly at her, as he touched down, and let go of her. The building didn’t take long to shatter after that, with Ladybug spinning twice, maybe, around it, before she was able to restore her balance. “Stay safe, Imogen,” he said, before he turned around and screamed to the other tenants to follow the firefighters heading to City Hall.

            “What tells us that Oblivion won’t attack us there?” a young feisty, probably scared to death teen defied the superhero, before he was shushed by his mom.

            Cat Noir turned in his direction, his face soft and understanding– it made the teen look down and hide behind his mother. The superhero was about to say something, when Ladybug made her way to her partner, boldly placing her elbow on his shoulder. “The walls of City Hall are warded with powerful runes, the same ones that protect our Miraculouses from evil when in their respective boxes,” she said, and Cat Noir wasn’t sure if she was bluffing or not– she didn’t look like she was lying at all, but then again, Cat Noir had never heard of anything like this before.

            He turned to face her, his eyes full of questions, but she only smiled, and winked. _Okay_ , he thought, _she was totally lying_.

            “Once you’ll be inside City Hall, you’ll be shielded by powerful magic,” she continued, standing a little straighter, when she realized some more people had gathered around her to hear what she had to say. “To this day, there is no record of any akuma that has ever been able to _enter_ City Hall. And it’s not for lack of trying. You’ll be safe in there, believe me.”

            No one dared to say anything after that, and the teen who had spoken out just nodded, before the little crowd began to walk toward where police officers and firefighters were leading people out of danger.

            “Why did you lie?” Cat Noir asked his girlfriend, when they were alone again.

            Ladybug shrugged. “I never lie,” she lied again, a playful look on her face. “Have you never noticed the inscriptions on the interior of City Hall’s ceiling? It’s exactly the same one that is drawn on our Miraculous’ boxes.” She paused, placed her palms on his shoulders and squeezed gently. “I looked it up– it’s a Protection rune. It keeps people safe from evil spells and dark magic.”

            “No akuma has ever been _inside_ City Hall, have they?”

            Ladybug chuckled. “They surely tried to take control over it, and climbed to its top, but not a single one of them has ever been inside, no. Besides, I asked Fu about it. He never denied.” She shrugged again. “Now, we have another girl to rescue before we can begin to track down Oblivion,” she said, smacking his hands off her hips, only a second after he dared to put them there.

            “He never confirmed, either,” Cat Noir insisted, following her to the other building.

            “ _In time, all unanswered questions will dissolve into stardust_ ,” she quoted Master Fu, smirking at her partner, who was still very much confused.

            “What does that even mean?”

            “I don’t know,” she replied honestly, spinning her yo-yo at her side. “Fu always speaks in nonsense. Now, kitten,” she purred, gesturing to a mountain of rocks that was covering the porch of the building, “do your thing.”

            Cat Noir nodded and called upon his cataclysm, with the mindset of turning the whole building into ash. Ladybug began to spin her yo-yo in the edifice’s direction, to keep Livvy from drowning in all this dust, all while getting her to safety. A filthy cloud of dirt flew over the city as Ladybug ran toward the little girl who just threw herself in the superheroine’s arms.

            “You’re here! You’re really here!” she cried in Ladybug’s neck, squeezing her with force, and refusing to let go.

            “I’m gonna take her to her brother at City Hall,” Ladybug announced to Cat Noir, as his ring began to beep urgently.

            He glanced down at it, pouting, and said, “I’ll meet you there in a bit. Don’t start to have fun without me, ‘kay?” he told her, and she nodded, smiling widely, before he kissed her absently on the lips and flew off.

            Ladybug didn’t think much of it and hooked her yo-yo around a chimney to get on the closest rooftop.

            “Are you two finally boyfriend and girlfriend now?” Livvy asked, with pink cheeks and a very cute smile, but her question made Ladybug almost choke on her own tongue.

            Livvy shouldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old, and her green eyes were big and mesmerizing, catching her just as easily as her boyfriend’s did, and Ladybug couldn’t but try and say something, _anything_ , but it was like her voice had just stopped working.

            “I always called it,” Livvy said proudly.

            “Y-you have?” Ladybug was panting, desperately trying to keep the pace, as she slid down each rooftop that led to City Hall.

            Livvy nodded energetically. “No one ever believed me, because, you know, I’m only nine years old. But I always knew Cat Noir was your prince, and you were his princess. Like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider–“

            Ladybug chuckled softly. She didn’t think that neither she nor Cat Noir could’ve been considered any kind of royalty– Even though, and it happened more often than she liked to admit, many people annoyingly compared Adrien to a king or an angel.

            Livvy was still talking when Ladybug finally touched down in front of City Hall and a woman inside came rushing toward the main doors, crying her daughter’s name, before taking her in her arms. “Thank you! Ladybug, thank you so much! You brought my Livvy back to me! How can I ever repay you?” she sobbed, hugging her child fiercely, burying her nose in little girl’s hair.

            “Just stay safe, okay?” Ladybug said, nicely stroking Livvy’s arm. “Will you tell Ty I said ‘hi?’” she asked the little girl, who smiled widely.

            “Of course, Ladybug!”

            “Thank you again, Miss Ladybug, so much, for everything you’re doing,” the woman continued, and Ladybug smiled at her.

            “Don’t worry about it, ma’am, I’m only doing my job!” she waved them off. “Bug out!”

            “So, what’s the plan?” Cat Noir asked Ladybug, as he joined her on the rooftop where he had prior spotted her.

            “I think we will need some help,” she sighed, staring at Paris’ ruins– the city looked like it had barely survived the Apocalypse. The capital was falling apart. Helicopters flew over the gray-blue tiles and scanned for people to save, private jets were flying others out of Paris, and buses were waiting for civilians at the gates of the city to drive them away toward the suburbs. “There are still people out there, possibly in danger, and there’s _no way_ we’ll be able to get to all of them in time.”

            “How much help do you think we’ll need?”

            Ladybug turned his way and faced him with something like an odd light flittering inside her eyes. “We’ll need all the help we can get. The akuma is slowly dragging us all into oblivion… _Adrien_ , she’s making the whole city explode under her touch! What if she makes _us_ explode, as well?” she sounded panicked, scared, and Cat Noir gently closed his clawed hands around her arms.

            “If we can’t fight her directly,” he sighed, and looked away, “then, we’ll go right to the source.”

            Ladybug’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked at Cat Noir with eyes full of tears and questions. She didn’t say anything, though– didn’t exactly know how he would take it.

            “Come on,” he sighed, suddenly turning his back at her. “The mansion is this way,” he announced, as he jumped off the rooftop, closely followed by his partner.

            As they touched down, however, they were rapidly ambushed by Oblivion, her costume entirely made of gray and black pebbles. On her fingers and around her neck shone diamonds and rubies, and emeralds, sapphires, and quartz, so many gems, all different in size and color, and her teeth were made of white gold. Her black hair flew around her like a cloud of dark magic, and her heavy makeup rendered her unrecognizable. She was so beautiful, she looked like the living version of a drawing Marinette had made a little while ago, and Ladybug couldn’t but stare.

            “Are you going to face me… and then forget about me, like everyone else did, before you?” she asked in a voice, so small and weak, Ladybug almost dropped her yo-yo.

            “W-we…” the latter tried to say, but couldn’t find the means to formulate a single sentence.

            “Are you going to face me, Ladybug and Cat Noir, and then _forget_ about me, like everyone else?” Oblivion asked them again, in a stronger voice that made the walls and the ground shake.

            It was finally Cat Noir who spoke up. “When we win, Oblivion will be but an ancient memory, but the woman behind her mask will never be forgotten.” He tried to be careful with his words.

            Oblivion hissed at him. “The woman behind this mask is dead. She had been sucked out of this world and is but an empty shell. _I_ am _Oblivion_ , and you will forget your names, before you make a vulgar memory out of me!” she exclaimed, before stomping her fist to the ground, slicing it in half, and ordering the earth to rise up and capture the Ladybug and the Black Cat inside a giant maze, with walls so high, they couldn’t jump over them, and so slick, they couldn’t climb them.


	19. Les cents yeux d'Argus

 

Bridgette and Felix were already half-way there when the earth began to shake uncontrollably and a giant billboard fell off right on top of his car– they had to get out as soon as possible, before the engine exploded altogether, and continue by foot.

            Luckily, Felix still had the keys to the mansion with him and Natalie hasn’t changed the entry code to the manor. He urged Bridgette inside and locked the gates behind him, before he led her across the gardens, to the main entrance, and rang the bell. As expected, it was his father’s assistant who invited them in, still extremely shocked to find her boss’ son out during an akuma attack.

            “Is Adrien here?” Felix asked straightaway, ignoring all of Natalie’s inquiries and concerned remarks.

            “No,” the latter answered, joining her hands behind her back, as she tried to sound as neutral and professional as possible.

            Felix turned toward the closed doors of his father’s office, taking a steady step in their direction, still holding on to Bridgette’s hand. “Is _he_ , then?”

            Natalie ran past them and stood before Felix, outstretching her arms at her sides to block his way. “I-I _apologize_ , Felix, but you can’t go in there,” she said, and she almost sounded sincere.

            Felix frowned at her. “Why not? I need to speak with him.”

            “He’s uh… unavailable,” was Natalie’s only response, but she was looking at the ground, nervously worrying on her lip, as if she was lying– or concealing a big part of the truth, for the very least.

            “Well, uh… sucks to be him, then. I’m going in Natalie,” he said, a little hesitantly, but a single glance in Bridgette’s direction gave him enough courage to defy his father’s wishes. “He’s got some explaining to do,” he defended himself, as he walked past Gabriel’s secretary, and reached for the door handle of the world-known fashionista’s office.

            Once again, Natalie was quick to stop him, grabbing him by the elbow in a desperate attempt to hold him back. “Felix, wait! W-why don’t you just… Just stay in… uh in your _room_ and wait for the attack to pass?” she suggested. “I promise I’ll send him to you when it’s all over. What do you say?”

            “Natalie,” Felix sighed, “I really need to speak with him. _Now_. So, please, _let me through_.” He took his arm back from her, but Natalie raced to the doors this time, laying her back against them, and stood her ground.

            “He uh… He’s having a _panic attack_!” she quickly improvised. “He doesn’t want anyone to know– he uh… he’s always had them during akuma attacks, and you… t-that’s _why_ you can’t go in there right now!” She stared at Felix with big, worried eyes, and realized that he would’ve probably believed her, and complied, if the woman he had brought along with him hadn’t had interfered.

            “Well, that’s simply ridiculous!” the latter exclaimed, outraged. “This is just another reason why we _absolutely_ need to get in there! We have to _help_ him.”

            Natalie scowled at her. “He doesn’t want the help.”

            “He doesn’t know what he wants,” Bridgette defied her. “Move, or I _will_ make you.”

            Natalie hissed at her. “I must obey Mr. Agreste’s wishes. He doesn’t want anyone to disturb him.”

            “I am _a_ Mr. Agreste,” Felix challenged her. “And I’m asking you to let me through, Natalie.”

            “You are not _the_ Mr. Agreste,” Natalie shot back, shaking her head. “I’m sorry Felix, but I do not answer to you.”

            “The reason she’s not letting you through is because he’s not in there,” a familiar voice spoke behind them, and, as Felix turned around, he was faced by the breathing incarnation of one of his worst nightmares.

            In his chest, his heart just stopped beating, and he was holding Bridgette’s hand so tightly, the latter had to let go of him. She moved around and placed herself in front of him, staring at him with worry and a little apprehension, as she reached for his face and forced him to look at her. Her eyes told him that she was right here, assured him she wasn’t going anywhere. He let out a cold sigh and ran his hands on her arms, smiled at her softly, before he looked back at his mother, incapable of letting go of the sight.

            Emilie Agreste was just as beautiful as he remembered, with perfect green eyes and perfect pink lips, her blond hair, flowing on her shoulders like a waterfall of liquid gold. Felix hadn’t seen her in years. He could smell her perfume from where he was standing– vanilla beans and gardenia– but it did little work to cover the scent of rotten flesh–  she reeked of necromancy and dirt, like she had just crawled out of a grave. Her skin was so white, it was like she had just returned from the dead, as if he was looking at a ghost or a vampire– he instinctively put himself in front of Bridgette, drawing his girlfriend away from the monster that wore his mother’s face.

            “I- I… We need to get out of here,” he whispered her, and Bridgette just nodded, refrained from asking questions, and followed him, as he started toward the main doors of the mansion.

            Natalie ran after them both, holding on to Felix’s sleeve. “Are you out of your _mind_? You can’t go outside, now!” she almost yelled, as her eyes began to water.

            “We’ll be careful,” Felix assured her, still unable to get his eyes off of his mother, who was looking back at him, smirking annoyingly, an unreadable expression on her face.

            “Felix, you _can’t_ leave!” Natalie finally screamed, completely panicked, when Felix forced her to let go of him once again. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you found yourself in the middle of an akuma attack?” she tried to reason with him, but Felix was still very eager to leave– He was stronger than her– physically, at least, she was no match to him, and there was no way she would be able to keep him inside the mansion if she only used physical strength– so, she did the only thing that came to her mind at the very moment, and triggered the security system of the manor, to trap them inside.

            The young man turned around to face her, suddenly enraged. “Why did you do that?!”

            “B-because if anything happens to you, y-your father will have my _head_ ,” Natalie told him, and long gone was Gabriel Agreste’s professional lap dog that followed him everywhere, and was thoroughly trained to let show no emotion. Natalie seemed the most vulnerable version of herself right now– she looked scared to death, she was crying even, and appeared to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

            “Natalie,” Felix said calmly. “Where is my father?”

            Natalie took in a deep breath to steady herself and said, “He’s busy.”

            “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Natalie!” Emilie barked at her. “Just tell him, already. He has the right to know.”

            Natalie shot the blond woman a hateful look, before she turned back to Felix, still stunned to hear his mother speak. “Natalie, what is she talking about?” he asked her, but his father’s assistant did not answer. “Please,” he insisted. “You can tell me.”

            Natalie brought her hands to her face and cried loudly into her palms, and Felix could see that she was ashamed to make a spectacle out of herself. He let go of Bridgette and carefully made his way to Natalie, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and leading her into the living room.

            He sat her down on the turquoise couch in front of the lit chimney and kneeled in front of her, slowly, more thankful than ever to feel Bridgette’s presence beside him.

            He reached for Natalie’s wrists and removed her hands from her face as softly as he could, and looked at her, calm and serein, until she stopped sobbing.

            She opened her mouth to talk, but Felix stopped her immediately, “It’s okay. No rush,” he assured her, and the shoulder squeeze Bridgette gave him felt reinvigorating. “Why don’t you try and calm down first?”

            Natalie nodded. Bridgette looked around before handing her a tissue she used to wipe the tears off her face. A minute, maybe two, passed by, and, against all odds, she turned toward Emilie, who had decided to stand a little further away. “I’m so, _so_ sorry. I didn’t know,” she told her. “I didn’t, I swear! _Please_ , you have to believe me!”

            Like everyone, Emilie was very surprised, and straightened up a bit, as Natalie continued:

            “I-I… I don’t really know what I was expecting… or h-hoping…,” she hiccupped, “but I… I see it now. He wouldn’t have given up, would’ve he? I was a fool to think he would stop– and an even bigger idiot to assume he would do it for _me_ …” she sighed, her whole body shaking still, and she reached for the ring Gabriel gave her, before taking it off abruptly and throwing it somewhere around the room.

            She seemed to regret the gesture instantly but made no move to get up and search for it. Instead, she just watched her naked hand, now lighter than ever, as she stroked the white shadow the ring had left on her finger.

            “Just tell him, Natalie,” Emilie said, a little more harshly than she intended.

            Felix frowned at her, before turning back to his father’s assistant. “What is she talking about, Natalie?” he asked her again. “What is it?”

            Natalie breathed in deeply. “H-have y-you ever wondered… w-why neither you, nor your brother, have ever been akumatized?”

            Felix, for sure, wasn’t expecting that. “ _What_?”

            “Ha-have you ever wondered why Hawk Moth only attacks the city when _you_ are out of town? O-on a business trip or-or… or when he was sure you and Adrien were somewhere safe?”

             “You are not making any sense,” he interrupted her, shaking his head. “What are you even saying?”

            “She’s trying to tell you that your father is really Hawk Moth, Felix,” Emilie finally said, tired of waiting for everyone to connect the dots, and Felix instantly turned her way, glaring at her with so much loathing and revulsion in him, she had to take a step back. “S-she’s trying to tell you what a _monster_ your father really is.”

            Felix didn’t take well the insult to his father. “You _abandoned_ us,” he accused her, and Emilie’s breath caught in her chest. “How does that make you even remotely better?” he said. “You say he’s a monster. Well, you _abandoned_ us _with_ him. Tell me, how are you better than him?”

            Emilie gulped down audibly, her eyes wide with fear and shock. “I- I was just trying to get away! I was _trapped_ in here!” she tried to defend herself.

            “Why didn’t you take us with you then?” he asked her, slowly getting up. Natalie and Bridgette were watching the exchange, both very scared, and with no idea what to expect next. “Why did you _leave_ us? You escaped, but you left us here, to rot. Who even are _you_?”

            “Felix,” Bridgette whispered in his ear, grabbing his arm to hold him back, and hold him against her. “Felix,” she said again, “stop.”

            He shook his head. “No, I’ve waited so many years to tell her this,” he said, relishing the sight of his mother, betrayed, and standing alone. Natalie didn’t even try to defend her– she chose to remain silent and was still sitting on the couch, without moving. “I hate you. I’ve hated you all these years, and even now, I’m looking at you, and I still hate you _so_ much.

            “I don’t know why you’re back, but I think you’ve already made your point, and you can return to the hell hole you crawled out of, now.” He paused. Emilie was looking at him, agape, and her words were stuck in her throat. “You’re not my mother. My mother has been dead for over fifteen years. You’re nothing but a mere impersonator, and if my father is really… what you’re claiming him to be, then I’m sure you’re the main reason he turned the way he did.

            “The hole you left in this family, in this _house_ , it just sucked us all in and turned us into monsters, and you’re a hundred percent to blame for that.”

            “F-Felix… You can’t mean that…” Emilie tried, but her tears held her voice down.

            “What happened to ‘until Death do us part’?” he inquired aloud. “I guess you just didn’t love us enough to stay.”

            “Of course I loved you!” Emilie exclaimed, furious at the last accusation. “Felix, I loved you more than anything!”

            “I’m s-sorry… but I just don’t believe you.” Emilie was silent after that– she almost fell to her knees, and had to lean back on the wall behind her to keep balance.

            Felix didn’t seem surprised to learn about his father’s questionable affiliations, nor had he been shocked to learn about Gabriel and Natalie’s apparently secret engagement, but it was obvious he was still coping with his reunion with his mother. He would’ve probably had forgotten about Bridgette if the latter didn’t place her hand steadily on his chest to try and calm him down, yet again.

            “You need to sit down,” she told him, and he obeyed more easily than she expected– he wanted to ask her how she was holding up– how she was living the fact that she was the girlfriend of Hawk Moth’s son–  but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Her answer terrified him too much. Bridgette was dating the first son of Paris’ number one wanted criminal– he expected her to run away, screaming for the hills, the minute Ladybug and Cat Noir would declare the city safe again.

            His heart began to race inside his chest because, if there was only one thing he was sure of, it was that he didn’t want Bridgette to leave him– he didn’t want to be alone again. He wanted her to stay with him, and hold him, and take care of him forever.

            “Felix, look at me,” she sighed, and he turned her way immediately. “I’m here, okay? You need to breathe in and out, and you need calm down.”

            _Why was she telling him this?_ he wondered to himself, as he reached for his face, and realized he had been crying– he couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Maybe it was when Marinette rejected him, or when he was fighting with Adrien at Max’s. It seemed so far away now. He had been such an idiot– he had needed alcohol to cope with the pain.

            He glanced at the bar that stood at the other end of the room– the finest whiskey of the entire country, probably, awaited for him in there.

            “You can’t,” Bridgette forbade him immediately, as if she read his mind. “You promised.”

            “That was when I was still convinced I would never have to face my mother again,” he replied, but stayed seated, unwilling to defy his girlfriend.

            “ _God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change_ ,” the latter said, pushing Felix’s hair away from his face in a very gentle way. “ _God, give me the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference_.” Felix gazed down. “You’re angry, and it’s fine. Let yourself be angry, Felix, and rage. But shutting away people is not the way to go.”

            “This is not just about my mother, is it?”

            Bridgette smiled, and shook her head, her knuckles still stroking his cheek. “People will do mistakes, and people will hurt you, but it is not a reason enough to give up on them.” Bridgette was sitting next to him, and she had one hand on the back of his neck, and another one on his face, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. “Earlier, you asked me about my story… Well, I hit rock bottom when my aunt was diagnosed with _autoimmune hepatitis_ – it’s a disease that attacks liver cells and keeps them from functioning correctly. It can lead to cirrhosis or even end-stage liver failure, when a liver transplant may be necessary.” She paused, Felix was listening carefully. “I was the only one in my family that was compatible, but my liver was already so damaged because of the excess of alcohol and drug use, the doctors refused to go with the surgery.

            “I… They put her on the list, of course, but she died before she even made it to the top.” She let out a cold sigh. “I thought my family would hate me. I was convinced _I_ was the reason she died… but I was wrong. They stood by me, every second, and saved my life. And now, I’m doing my best to repay them, by trying to save other people.

            “Your family members are the only ones who will stick with you until the end, who will love you, _unconditionally_ , even if they have a weird way of showing it. They’re the best shot you got, so don’t shut them out. And, when I say family, I don’t mean just _blood_ , Felix.”

            “You mean Marinette,” he guessed.

            Bridgette nodded. “This girl really does care about you. I saw how relieved she was to see you were okay.” Felix winced. “You’re going through a very difficult time, Felix. You need to surround yourself with people. There’s no way you can do it alone.”

            “I have you,” he said, a little hopeful.

            She smiled, and leaned in to kiss his lips softly. “I’m not enough. You need everyone you can get.”

            Felix let out a deep sigh, then turned his mother’s way, who straightened up instantly, looking at him with red eyes and mascara dripping all over her cheeks. “As much as it pains me to admit it,” he began, and paused, swallowed audibly, before carrying on, “I know you didn’t come back for me, or for Adrien.” Emilie was about to say something, but finally chose to stay silent. “So, what do you want?”

            Surprisingly, it was Natalie who answered. “There’s a safe, in your father’s office… with a Miraculous inside. She wants it.”

            Felix glanced at his father’s assistant, then back to his mother. “Is this true?” Emilie just nodded. “What are you going to do with it?”

            “Use it to get the Moth Miraculous back from him,” she replied. “It doesn’t belong to him.”

            “But it does belong to _you_?” Felix snorted.

            “The Peacock and the Moth Miraculouses have been in my family for over a century,” Emilie said, extremely serious. “I just want them back.”

            Felix stood up, quickly mimicked by Bridgette and Natalie. “If I manage to return them to you, will you be on your way?”

            Emilie’s hands turned to fists by her sides, and she stared right into her eldest son’s eyes, with courage, and determination. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll let me, Felix,” she said bravely.

            Felix let out a deep sigh. “I want you _gone_.”

            His words went through her like a thousand knives, tearing at her flesh, and digging deep into her body, making her bleed to death. “I… I understand,” she agreed nonetheless. She was crying again, but Felix ignored it, and Bridgette chose not to bring it to his attention– she didn’t want to push him too much– at the end of the day, _Felix_ knew what was best for Felix.

            The latter turned Natalie’s way, who straightened up immediately, her hands, joined behind her back, and she looked at him, like she was waiting for an order from him. “What do you know about this Miraculous?” he asked her.

            Oddly enough, Felix trusted Natalie. He respected her, and liked her, even. Natalie has been around for most of his life, and he had worked with her many times in the past– she always made herself available when he needed help, be it for a project in relation with his position at _Agreste Designs_ , or anything else. She helped him throw delightful parties, was always eager to share her knowledge of the field, and shared every information she thought he could use at his advantage when signing a contract with another company– Natalie was the one who convinced his father to invest in Marinette’s business when she first started out, and he would always be grateful for that.

            “I know that when Mrs. Agreste left him, Mr. Agreste went absolutely _mad_ ,” she admitted out loud for the first time, and the confession seemed to have hurt her. “He searched the globe for her, to bring her back, not only to him, but to you and Adrien, too. He was so scared of having to raise both of you alone, because he was convinced he would be bad at it.”

            “Well, he was absolutely right,” Felix remarked sardonically, but refrained himself from adding anything else when Natalie simply glared at him.

            “After years of nonsuccess, Mr. Agreste turned his attention toward more _questionable_ sources, and started studying dubious subjects… witchcrafts, voodoo spells, and all kind of black magic. He hired a psychic– I think her name was Alma Leclaire– Yes, I remember. Her name was definitely Alma Leclaire.”

            “Wasn’t her business shut down a few months ago?” Bridgette wondered out loud. “She was all over the news.”

            “Yes, it was… uh… It was Mr. Agreste’s doing,” Natalie replied simply, without further explanation.

            “Why?” Felix however insisted.

            Natalie sighed. “I think it was because she discovered he was… who he was… and threatened to reveal everything to the authorities.”

            “Someone should do that,” Felix mumbled under his breath.

            “She was the one that told him the story behind the Miraculouses– Specifically, what would happen if a person held in their hand both the Ladybug’s and the Black Cat’s Miraculouses.”

            “They would be granted a wish,” Emilie continued at her place. “The wish to alter reality.”

            Natalie looked at her and nodded. “I thought he only wanted to find you, and bring you back… F-for Felix and Adrien… but what he has in mind now, truly sickens me.” She glanced away. “I’m sorry if I can’t be of any more help.”

            “What else?” Felix encouraged her to carry on with the story.

            “Well, little to say that all of this really got into his head– and he chose to hold on to that bit of deranged hope, instead of grieving, and moving on. One day, he heard from someone that Mrs. Lily Dévereux was throwing an auction event in the honor of her deceased grandfather and that some ancient Chinese relics were part of the items that were to be sold. He sent _you_ ,” she recalled, staring right at Felix.

            The latter shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

            “It was so many years ago,” Natalie nodded. “You were barely eighteen or nineteen.” She chuckled. “I remember you were so nervous because it was your very first time attending a black-tie event without your father. Well, I was here, of course, but I don’t think it was the same,” she added, blushing a little bit. “You bought the Peacock and the Moth Miraculous form Mrs. Lily Dévereux, thinking they were just very expansive brooches. And then, I talked you into buying the book as well. Your father was pleased.”

            Suddenly, something clicked inside Felix’s head. “Does Adrien know any of this?”

            Natalie’s face went pallid. “Of course, not! I would _never_ … No. He does not know.”

            Felix shook his head. “N-no, I-I think he knows,” he told her, as his latest encounter with his little brother was playing in his mind again. He tried to remember what the latter had said to him then. “ _I_ bought the brooches. It’s _my_ name on all the legal documents… he must’ve thought I was Hawk Moth,” he whispered his last sentence in such a low voice, he was sure even Bridgette, who was standing right next to him, didn’t hear him. “But how would he know anything about Miraculouses at all?” he wondered to himself, still debating on whether he should share this information or not– he decided to keep it to himself, for now, and talk to his brother about it before doing anything he would regret later on. He turned his mother’s way, not missing how she instinctively jerked away from him.

            She was standing a little closer to them now, as if she had silently crept toward them to listen to what Natalie was saying.

            “If both the Miraculouses belonged to _your_ family,” Emilie despised the way Felix said ‘your family,’ in a way that completely detached him from her, “then how come they ended up at the Longshadow’s auction?”

            “They were stolen from me,” she declared. “They were stolen from me by a man who played me.”

            “How convenient,” Felix wasn’t easy to believe her.

            “I can prove it!” Emilie immediately defended herself. “I know Duusu, the kwami that lives in the Peacock Miraculous. And she knows _me_. I’m her only holder. She only answers to _me_.”

            Felix raised an eyebrow at his mother. “You’re just saying words like we’re supposed to know what it means.”

            “My great-grandmother was chosen to be the holder of the Peacock Miraculous,” she tried to explain more clearly. “She had to move to Tibet, and into a Temple inhabited by Miraculous Guardians that would train her and teach her everything she was ought to know. She wasn’t the only one; I think they were a whole class of roughly a hundred people, chosen all around the world. Each one of them had been chosen to be the holder of one particular Miraculous, but no one was allowed to interact with their kwami for more than a few hours a day.

            “One night, my ancestor had been trusted to guard the chest of Miraculouses but was attacked by a shadow-like figure that knocked her off and got to the Temple’s treasure. It wanted the Moth Miraculous, and got it, transformed, and was able to create an akuma of fire with it– I was told it had for aim to destroy the Temple. My great-grandmother was able to grab the Peacock Miraculous and transform as well, and stole the Miraculous away from the thief, but she wasn’t able to defeat it before the akuma blew the whole place up. She had to escape and save herself.

            “The Peacock and Moth Miraculouses remained with her, as well as the _Miraculous Scrolls of Mystic Transformations_ , and they were passed on to future generations. At first, I wanted to gift you and your brother both with a Miraculous,” she ended her speech on a hopeful note, but if Felix was even remotely touched by it, he didn’t show it.

            _Your great-grandmother was a coward_ , he almost said, but refrained himself last minute. “You tell the story as if there were no survivors,” he commented instead.

            Emilie winced. “That’s what she thought, I guess. But it is clear that at least one other person survived the explosion, because I’ve heard recent stories of many Miraculouses that were thought to be lost forever who were handed to new trainees– I am only glad that the powers of the Ladybug and the Black Cat had survived this tragedy– God knows what would’ve happened if they had been destroyed.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Their power is immense, and their safeguard is crucial for the well-balance of our universe. They are no ordinary Miraculouses. They were made out of the same eternity stone and their magic fuel our world– this is why anyone who possesses them together and at the same time is thus endowed with the power to change our reality. And this is why your father can _never_ have them.”

            “It’s been six years,” Bridgette spoke for the first time in what seemed like years. “He’s never won once against Ladybug and Cat Noir– even when he became this weird scarlet version of himself and was able to turn half of the city’s inhabitants into akumas.”

            “It’s different this time,” Natalie dared to interject. “Before, he was just after the Miraculouses, but now, I seriously think that he is trying to destroy Paris. Nadja Chamack’s last announcement, before you two arrived here, was that Ladybug and Cat Noir were now trapped in a sort of giant labyrinth with no visible way out and that was actively working on erasing their memory.”


	20. Banshee Call

“There’s this weird mist everywhere– I can’t see anything,” Cat Noir let out in frustration, as he slowly slid down his stick and hooked it to his belt, before he sat down right next to Ladybug, who was leaning her back against a gray wall, her arms wrapped around her legs, and looking as irked and wearied as ever. “Hey… you alright there?” he asked her, and she shrugged in response.

            The Miraculous of the Black Cat provided its holder with the power to turn matter to ash and nothingness and with a nearly unbreakable weapon that can be extended to unlimited length, or split in half, and used as a sword, or even a regular vaulting pole. It doubled as a communicator, worked as a breathing apparatus, it was even bendable, and, when spun around at very high speed, it was able to generate a strong magnetic field that acted as a shield and deflected attacks, or simply allowed Cat Noir to land safely from high distances. Despite all that, however, the latter was not able to get past the mountain-tall walls that constituted Oblivion’s labyrinth– they seemed so high, when Cat Noir tilted his head up toward the sky, all he saw was a thousand of stars shining in brought daylight.

            Ladybug’s yo-yo was very much like his staff– its string was of unlimited length and was so strong it could cut through anything– he once saw her split the Eiffel Tower in two. It was controlled by willpower, and because his lady could be extremely tenacious at times, the yo-yo rendered her virtually invincible, making her the worst possible opponent– but even her stubbornness and determination, and the magic wire of her weapon, weren’t able to break through the maze’s walls, as if they were made of diamonds or graphene.

            “We’re stuck,” Ladybug mumbled under her breath, playing with the big ball of red and black twine that had fallen back into her hand after she tossed her yo-yo in the air and called upon her lucky charm, a little while ago. “There’s no hope of getting out… I have _no_ freaking clue what to do with this thing… a-and cherry on top of _everything_ we don’t have much time before we transform back and return to being our stupid, useless civilian selves,” she ranted, throwing the ball of twine away– it bounced against the opposite wall then back to her to hit her right in the nose with a certain intensity, making Cat Noir snicker lightly. “I _hate_ you,” she huffed in exasperation, nudging him on his thigh.

            Cat Noir laughed again and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “Hey, don’t worry. We’re Ladybug and Cat Noir– there’s no way _we_ won’t be able to do it.”

            Ladybug relaxed against her boyfriend’s chest, snaking her hands around his waist, and sighed. “The cookie box I brought with me is almost empty.”

            “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he tried to sound reassuring. When Ladybug didn’t answer, he shifted and came face to face with her, his hands closed around her shoulders, holding her in a very delicate, careful way. “You’re afraid,” he remarked, and Ladybug just glanced away, blushing a little. “You don’t need to be. I’m here for you, you know.”

            For a second, Ladybug’s lips twitched, and Cat Noir saw the tiniest glimpse of a smile, but it was over the second it started. “I just… I’ve never been in a position where I was left with no idea about what to do next, I–“ she scoffed, “I _always_ have a plan– and another one just in case the first one doesn’t work out. And _then_ , I’d have a _third_ backup… I mean… well, you know how I get…”

            “Hey,” Cat Noir interrupted her, cupping her cheeks in his cold gloved palms so that she had to look at him, and her lips parted almost instinctively. “We’re in this together, okay?”

            Ladybug looked down, sighed, then nodded, before peering up at him again. Cat Noir pressed his lips together, looking very serious all of a sudden, before he just leaned into her and kissed her. She was a bit surprised at first, but it didn’t take her much to melt into it. The kiss was deep and slow, lasted for minutes probably, and the only thing Ladybug was thinking of was that she absolutely didn’t want it to stop. She just wanted to stay in his arms now and to Hell with the rest of the world– to Hell with Hawk Moth and the akumas, to Hell with the citizens of Paris, to Hell with everything.

            “We really need to get going, though,” Cat Noir whispered against her mouth. “We can’t stay in here forever…”

            “Yeah, sure…” she just nodded, before she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall, passing one leg over his lap to straddle him. When she kissed him this time, it was the most fiercely she’s ever kissed someone before– as her tongue moved inside his cheeks, it spelled love, and need, and passion, and pressed against his jaws to part them further and further away.

            He ran his hands along the length of her back, hugging her against him, and she seemed to enjoy the way he gasped and moaned at her every move. After a while of them just sucking at each other’s faces, Cat Noir grabbed her by the hips and flipped them around, so he was leaning above her, squeezing her between his body and the ground. She laughed out loud, wrapping her legs around his waist, and let him kiss her again, before her earrings let out a single beep.

            He jerked away instantly, looking like he was just splashed with ice water, but she just locked her fingers around his neck and drew him toward her once again. “Ignore it. We’re alone anyway,” was her only excuse, and Cat Noir took it, no hesitation, and without even thinking.

            A flash of pink light blinded him and, when he opened his eyes a moment later, Marinette was staring back at him, with an angry-looking little red kwami sitting on her forehead. “Should I ignore her too?” he creased his eyelids at his girlfriend, snickering.

            Marinette smirked at him and was about to say something, but Tikki reacted first, cutting her off. “You dare, and I’ll _fight_ you!” she exclaimed, outraged, as she lifted her paws toward Cat Noir, looking like she was ready to attack.

            Sighing deeply, Marinette reluctantly let go of Cat Noir and watched him sit up, before she did the same. She avoided his gaze the first few seconds and busied herself with taking out her half-empty box of cookies from her purse that she handed to Tikki, then turned his way to face him. He was already staring back at her, and blushed a bit when he was caught, but didn’t glance away.

            “Your lucky charm’s still here,” he let her know, gesturing to the ball of twine that was still lying a couple feet away from them.

            Marinette shrugged. “Well, I didn’t use it.”

            Cat Noir chuckled and accepted her argument easily. “So…” he tried, after a moment of silence, while Tikki was voraciously munching on her chocolate chip cookies.

            Marinette wrapped her arms around her legs and tucked her chin between her knees. “So, what?”

            “So… are we gonna like… talk about what just happened here?”

            She shrugged again, and turned her face to look away. “You’re my boyfriend, now,” she mumbled between her teeth, her cheeks, dark red, “I don’t need to explain myself whenever I feel like kissing you.”

            “Well, you kinda gotta do if you wanna have full-on _hot_ make-out sessions in the middle of akuma attacks,” he snorted, shyly running a hand through his messy blond hair.

            “I guess I was just looking for a distraction or something,” she said, looking a bit sad.

            Cat Noir immediately scooted over to her, taking her by the chin to lift up her face. “Hey, I’m not mad or anything… I’m all in for any kind of distraction you have in mind, really,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at her. “You just got an issue with picking the right time, that’s all,” he winked.

            She just rolled her eyes at him and nudged him in his arm, giggling softly. “Sometimes, I… I just like… panic and stuff… and I start overthinking situations– and I just need something– _anything_ , really– to like… shush the thoughts away and clear my mind for a bit, you know? Just so I would be able to concentrate again…” she admitted finally, hugging her legs even harder, and glancing away from him. She was so adorable at this precise moment, Cat Noir just wanted to kiss her again. “It just gets so overwhelming sometimes… I can’t hear myself think anymore and uh…”

            She chose not to finish her sentence and turned his way, smiling a small, endearingly sweet smile that almost made him blush. He wanted to say something, but realized he didn’t have anything clever or funny to say, no witty pun or smart remark to come up with (it was probably not the best moment anyway), so he just began to lean in, and half-closed his eyes as he saw her do the same.

            Tikki cleared her throat before their lips touched, though, and eyed Marinette with a look that said ‘You’ll see when we get home.’ Cat Noir felt a bit bad for her, but then remembered that she hadn’t been putting up with _Plagg_ for the last six years, and relaxed. “I’m ready, now,” said the red kwami, as she tossed her cookie box into Marinette’s purse. The latter let out a small sigh before calling on her transformation and a blaze of pink light later, Cat Noir was looking at Ladybug again.

            He got to his feet and helped her do the same, before he bent over to pick up the ball of red twine she had created and handed it to her. “Still no clue on what to do with that?” he asked. She shrugged as an answer. “Well… that’s just terrific, isn’t it?” he snorted, his fists on his hips.

            “We use it as a marker, like Theseus did in the Labyrinth where he was sent to defeat the Minotaur,” a familiar voice said behind them, and they both turned around, only to come face to face with Carapace. “Remember the story? I always liked it– it was pretty sick, don’t you think?”

            “ _Carapace_? W-what are you doing here?” Ladybug was the first one to speak, Cat Noir, still ogling the newcomer with curiosity and a little bit of suspicion.

            The latter pointed at somewhere behind him with his thumb and seemed a bit concerned. “Ah… I was just recharging Wayzz’s batteries. Man, does this little dude like mint and pumpkin seeds…” He chuckled.

            Ladybug seemed confused. “N-no, I m-mean what are you doing _here_?”

            “Oh…” Carapace took off his shield and started dialing something on its screen keyboard, immediately paying less attention to them– Cat Noir didn’t really appreciate it, but Ladybug just decided to ignore it. After a while, he just said, “Fu came to us and sent me. Then, I got sucked in with ya.”

            Suddenly, Ladybug began to actively look around, as if she was scouring her surroundings for something in particular. “Where’s Rena?” she wondered.

            “She’s building a map of the maze,” Carapace replied in a very neutral tone. “She’s trying to link herself with the other Miraculouses to open a portal for us and get us out, but we need to move more toward the edges…”

            “She can do _that_?” Cat Noir sounded very impressed.

            Carapace let out a deep sigh and pressed his lips together, before hooking his shield on his back and shoving his palmed hands in his costume’s pockets. “Fu says she can, but she’s still figuring the whole thing out. She says it’s like a giant Rubik’s cube but with a thousand different colors instead of just six, and that she’s always up for a little challenge, so you don’t gotta worry. Yeah, I don’t get the comparison either…” He smiled, as the thought of his girlfriend crossed his mind. “Anyway, I’m here to keep you from losing your heads, because the more time you spend in here, the more you begin to forget stuff.”

            Ladybug winced, still unconvinced. “Forget stuff? What kind of stuff?”

            Carapace shot her a jaded look. “I bet you two were just lying here idly chatting with each other– just keeping on coming up with plans, and forgetting about them the next minute.” He crossed his arms, a defying look on his face that Cat Noir did not appreciate at all.

            “Well, what about _you_ then?” he asked.

            Carapace chuckled before gesturing to his green hoodie. “Nah… all this mind control shit doesn’t work on me– never have, never will. But,” he then added, his voice a little more grave, “in all seriousness, we need to get you guys out of here before you forget how to catch an akuma.”

            “Wait, Oblivion can make us do that?” Ladybug inquired, suddenly all lot jumpier.

            Carapace nodded grimly. “First, you forget where you are, why you are here, and what you’re doing… and waste your time trying to figure it out. Then, progressively, you’ll start to forget each freaking plan you come up with to escape, so that Oblivion, and Hawk Moth by extension, can be sure that you will never be able to get out. In the end, you’ll eventually forget your names, and yourselves, even forget that you have been chosen to be the holders of the Miraculouses, so she can just come back here and ask you for them, and you’ll just have no other choice than to just give them up willingly.” He took a long look at the horror on Ladybug and Cat Noir’s faces, before he just glanced away, sadly.

            Ladybug frowned at him. “How do you even know all that?”

            Carapace sighed deeply and hissed, “’cause you already asked me this question half an hour ago. Hey, I’m just repeating what Fu told me and… like… we’re not there yet, are we? There’s still hope,” he added, more calmly. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I don’t like being apart from Rena.”

            Ladybug shook her head. “No need to apologize. We’re all a bit tense.” She glanced down at the ball of twine she had between her hands. “I’m usually able to find clues in my surrounding to help me figure out what to do with the lucky charm, but I just… I don’t know how to use this particular one.” She let out a frustrated groan and stomped her foot to the ground. “This whole forgetful spell thing is really getting to _me_ …”

            “Did I try my Cataclysm on the walls, already?” Cat Noir asked Carapace.

            “Yeah, and it works, but it’s not effective at all,” the latter replied. “You can only destroy one wall at a time, and I don’t know if you got enough energy to take down the whole maze at that pace.”

            “Right.”

            Carapace didn’t say anything after that and just walked toward Ladybug drawing out one of his hands. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the ball of twine, and she immediately handed it to him. “Thanks. I take no credit for that, by the way. It was all you, LB.” He began undoing the ball and fastened the edge of the twine around a metal stick that was sticking out of the ground, before he stood back up and turned Ladybug and Cat Noir’s way. “Well, you know the universal rule, don’t you?” Ladybug and Cat Noir looked blankly at each other and then at Carapace, who was standing, a hand on his hip. “You put one hand on a wall and follow its trail without taking it off,” he told them, setting the example, and they were quick to follow after him.

            “So… were you able to talk to Rena?” Ladybug asked Carapace, after what seemed like hours of awkward silence.

            Carapace glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah… She’s doing fine… _Bee_ , on the other hand…”

            “ _Bee_?” Ladybug repeated, shock, painted all over her face. “You called _Queen Bee_? _Why_?”

            “First of,” Carapace started, “ _I_ didn’t call _anyone_ ,” he wanted to make things clear. “It was all Fu’s doing. Second of,” he carried on, “someone’s gotta take care of the civilians, right? I mean, you and kitty cat are stuck here, me with you, and Rena is tripping high on her flute’s music to get us out of here.” He paused. “I know you don’t like her, beetle, but you gotta admit she’s not that bad. I mean, she’s pretty good at her job. Give her that, at least.”

            Ladybug just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

            It was no secret, really, how much of a Ladybug fan Chloe Bourgeois always has been. When she was still in High School, Marinette tried hard not to take it as an insult whenever she would catch her and her best friend Sabrina playing make-belief all around _The Grand Paris_ – with Chloe always dressing up as Ladybug and Sabrina impersonating Cat Noir– because Chloe was simply a very mean, very self-centered person, a bully, who always took pleasure in constantly picking on the weak, and who had seriously no business in pretending to be her. For that only, Chloe Bourgeois was the exact opposite of everything Ladybug stood for.

            Indeed, the very first thing she did when she received her Miraculous was to use her powers to knock down a subway train driver and jeopardize the lives of every person in it, only so that she could save them all and claim her new title of superheroine.

            Of course, things didn’t go as planned, and Chloe ended up being yelled at by her mother and Ladybug on national T.V., right before Hawk Moth took advantage of the situation and infected her with wicked whims and dark magic.

            But what really got to Ladybug was that Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t even _chosen_ – she only _found_ the little black box when Ladybug lost it– Master Fu only allowed her to remain the Bee Miraculous holder because Pollen, the Bee Miraculous goddess, was fond of her, and on the condition that Chloe would start working on her attitude.

            Everyone knew the face hidden behind Queen Bee’s mask, and it was really an understatement to say that Ladybug always tried not to ask for her help, even though Carapace, Pollen and Fu were right: being the Bee Miraculous holder has truly made Chloe Bourgeois more considerate and _human_ , and being a superhero, against all odds, suited her perfectly.

            Plus, she wasn’t like the rest of them– she actually enjoyed the attention journalists and reporters were giving her and had no problem in appearing in interviews, which made the overall popularity of their whole group increase considerably– Chloe always talked very highly of Ladybug and Cat Noir, never forgot to mention Rena Rouge’s inspiring dedication to her city and her role as a superhero, and constantly reminded the public of Carapace’s impute on the team.

            Fu had consulted with her many times in the past, like he did with all his Chosens, and found her very cheeky and sassy, but never insolent, and Ladybug knew he enjoyed her company– she would too, probably, if she could just let go of the terrible image she still had of Chloe Rowdy McGee. Besides, the only reason Cat Noir didn’t like her was because Ladybug didn’t seem to, but the latter was sure that if she addressed her in a less bitter and hostile way, then Cat Noir would show her more kindness as well.

            Cat Noir has always been like this, Ladybug thought to herself. He never hesitated to take her side, and was always so eager to stand by her, defend her at any cost, even if it meant taking the hit himself. But that wasn’t to say that he didn’t think of his own– Cat Noir was extremely smart, and when he thought Ladybug wasn’t approaching a situation the right way, he was never afraid to let her know– she could be so stubborn sometimes it would take minutes, hours, even days, for him to convince her– he would never give up, though, because he was probably the only person in the world who was able to make her listen to reason.

            “ _Ladybug_! Careful!” Carapace screamed, forcing Ladybug out of her reverie, before she felt Cat Noir tackle her to the ground, saving her from a piece of fractured wall that crashed right where she should’ve been.

            “T-thank you!” Ladybug exclaimed, wide-eyed, as she kept looking at the giant slice of rock that could’ve killed her, then back to Cat Noir, who was still on top of her, blushing hard, and completely taken aback by the whole situation.

            “Y-you’re wel-welcome, M’Lady,” he barely managed to choke out before he clumsily stumbled back to his feet and helped her up as well– she would’ve told him that she really didn’t mind being close to him in any way, if only she could.

            He still had her hand in his as he got up and went on with sorries and regrets, restlessly apologizing for invading her space in such way, and she just stared at their interlocked fingers, lifting an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?” she asked him, gesturing at their hands.

            He glanced down at them, and blushed. “Oh… uh… h-holding your hand?”

            She chuckled lightly. “O-okay… but w-why?”

            The question was simple, yet it still managed to confuse him. “I-I don’t know…” he mumbled, before he let go of her.

            “I’m not going to get lost, don’t worry,” she tried to reassure him, but both of them knew _that_ wasn’t the reason of the sudden tension between them– she knew she was blushing too, she could feel it, and decided to ignore the whole situation until her face’s color was back to normal.

            “Hey, beetle! You alright?” Carapace cut them off, running to Ladybug– they were both thankful for the distraction.

            “I’m fine…” she sighed, avoiding her partner’s gaze– if it wasn’t for him… she closed her eyes and tried not to think about what might’ve happened.

            “Okay, then,” Carapace nodded. “S’good enough for me… Come on let’s keep up the pace, alright?” He took a deep breath and was about to say something else when his shield began to ring. “It’s Rena,” he announced, and invited them to join him. They did and he picked up right away, Rena’s face immediately appearing on the screen. “So? How is it going?”

            “I think I’ll need more time,” she sighed. “I’m already on my fourth transformation. Trixx is exhausted. Everyone is. There are seven Miraculouses missing, overall. It’s not easy at all with this little energy.”

            “How much time are we talking about?” Carapace tried to be practical– Carapace was always on high alert when he was called into an akuma attack. He didn’t like wasting time. What he disliked the most, however, was when his friends had to slip away to an empty place to feed their kwamis, because it left them in danger and exposed, and was especially worried about Rena’s whereabouts at all times– She was his biggest weakness– If anything was to happen to her, or if an enemy managed to bring her down, they would have him as well.

            “I have no idea!” Rena let out, visibly annoyed. “God… I think this must be the worst akuma we’ve ever had to fight… She’s making everything explode out here!”

            “How many people were hurt?” Ladybug wondered.

            Rena shook her head. “I don’t know, but I know there’s a lot.”

            The spotted superheroine pressed her lips together and glanced away. “Any deaths?” Her voice was low, all of a sudden, as if the last word terrified her.

            “We… don’t know,” Rena sounded like a mixture of appalled and regretful.

            Ladybug nodded grimly but didn’t reply. A few seconds elapsed before she got back to her senses. “Can’t Bee sting her or something?”

            “That’s what I’ve trying to do, you know!” Bee’s voice answered her, before the screen on Carapace’s shield was cut in half and the five of them were all talking together.

            “Right,” it was Cat Noir who spoke this time. “Well, deal with the civilians, at least. How many are there at City Hall?”

            Bee winced. “Too many. I mean, I know the place is huge but… we’re still a little more than two millions of people in Paris.”

            “But people are getting out, aren’t they?” Carapace recalled. “They’re all fleeing to South and the suburbs.”

            “Uh, _trying_ , yeah…” Bee tsked. “But good news is Oblivion doesn’t seem to run after them and keep them from escaping.”

            Carapace shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll take whatever we can…”

            “How are you guys holding up?” Rena asked to the three superheroes that were stuck in Oblivion’s maze, but everyone knew she was addressing Carapace and was really asking him about Ladybug and Cat Noir’s memory conditions.

            “Nothing we can’t handle,” Carapace said, and Ladybug and Cat Noir smiled at their foxy partner. “We’re moving at a snail’s speed, though, and a bit like a blind man. A wall crumbled and almost fell on LB, too, but Cat Noir got her out of the way, and all’s good now.” He glanced at Bee, while Rena was still taking in the information. “Have you located the akuma?”

            “I ripped off her bracelets and tore them apart but nothing happened, so my guess… it’s either in her necklace or in her hairclip.”

            Carapace just nodded. “Okay. Stay on it.”

            “Noted,” Bee took the order with no arguing and cut the communication.

            Rena’s face was occupying the whole screen once again. “I need to get going too, but don’t worry. We’ll get you out and it’ll all be over soon. There’s no way the five of us won’t be able to take her down.” She smiled widely when Cat Noir winked at her, then blew a kiss to each one of her friends, before the screen turned black again and Carapace put his shield back on.

            “Okay,” the latter said, gesturing to the ball of twine that was still in his hands. “This thing’s the only thing that’s keeping us from getting lost, so I say we continue to use it, and just wait for Rena’s call. Sounds good?” Ladybug and Cat Noir nodded in response.

 


	21. The World of One Man

_One thing Ladybug absolutely detested was having to fight against her partner whenever an akuma had taken over his mind– mainly because she always tried not to hurt him, whereas he, not being in his right state of mind, didn’t have this kind of awareness and didn’t mind hitting and tackling her, and was even a little proud when he managed to draw out some blood._

_“_ Cat Noir _!_ Snap _out of it!” she growled at him, throwing her yo-yo around a balcony railing to hiss herself up in the air, right before she came crashing into him with force, shoving her foot into his stomach._

_Cat Noir went flying across the street and collided with the wall of the opposite building in a deafening blast. Her heart just about exploded inside her ribcage then, and she touched down immediately, hooking her yo-yo at her hip, as she raced toward him to make sure he was okay. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving, and Ladybug felt tears building up at the back of her throat, as she got close enough to touch his shoulder and shake him a bit, to see if she could wake him up, before he caught at her wrist violently and sprained her arm in her back, making her scream._

_“You’re so predictable,” he murmured into her ear, sending a cold shiver down her spine. “You can’t hurt me– not really, at least. You think I didn’t notice? You’re a joke. I’m only fighting fifty percent of you.”_

_“Shut up!” she shouted, before she kicked him on the back of his knee, forcing him to let go of her. She moved her arm, making sure it wasn’t broken, and lost precious seconds during which he got to his feet and shoved her against a car that was parked in front of them. The collision broke the windshield and Ladybug was sure it was going to leave bruises all along her back. “You fucking asshole…”_

_“You foul mouth!” Cat Noir exclaimed, falsely outraged, before he extended his stick in his hand and lifted it above his head to hit her with it._

_Ladybug managed to dodge it as she rolled off the hood of the car and fell to the ground, making her partner snicker loudly. He jumped over her, standing over her lying figure, one foot at each of her sides, and pushed the end of his stick into her chin, forcing her to look up at him. The corner of her mouth was bleeding slightly and she had a couple bruises on her face, nothing major really, but he still took pride in it._

_“God, you’re ugly,” he insulted her, smirking. “I bet your skin is all dry and crumpled, scattered with huge and hideous scars under that suit. What man would want to touch that?”_

_She groaned and kicked him in his leg, making him fall beside her, as she got up quickly and took his weapon away from him– she threw it the further she could. Little to say it made him even angrier when he just flew to his feet and shoved his fist right into her jaw, making her lose balance once again._

_Cat Noir was stronger and faster than her– she could say the opposite all she wanted but, at the end of the day, she had to face the music: her partner was way bigger and had way better reflexes that she did, and, even when she was giving her whole, she could barely beat him in a fair fight._

_“I hope I didn’t get any of the front teeth,” he cackled, as he kneaded his knuckles. “No one wants to see that.”_

_Ladybug spat some blood, as she rubbed her cheeks, and frowned at him. “You’re hitting women, now? How low of you.”_

_He chuckled meanly and got down on his knees to look at her in her eyes. He grabbed her chin to make her look at him and smiled a wide smile full of teeth. “You and I both know you’re not just a woman,” he told her in a smooth voice, and she glanced away, blushing a bit. “You’re my other half. You could snap your fingers and snap my back, if only you put in some kind of effort.”_

_“I don’t want to hurt you,” she mumbled under her breath._

_His hand moved down toward her neck and closed around her throat, as he pushed her against the car door she was leaning against, almost strangling her. “You’re pathetic.”_

_She shook her head. “I just love you. I can’t stand the sight of you getting hurt,” she said in a soft voice, a small smile on her lips, even though she knew the real Cat Noir couldn’t hear her– it was the first time she ever said the words to him, the only time she could bring herself to do it, because, deeply, she knew he wasn’t there._

_“What a lovely declaration,” he replied, but she could see how her words surprised him. “I hope you’re not waiting for me to say it back– because even me can’t pull off a lie this huge.”_

_“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said, laying her pounding head against the cold metal. His hand was still on her throat, but he wasn’t squeezing. It was just there– it felt almost agreeable. “I’m done. You’re right, I cannot beat you,” she simply gave up._

_He lifted both his eyebrows at her in complete shock but she just shrugged and half-closed her eyes. He let go of her neck and slid his palm over her shoulder, as he leaned into her, gently pressing his lips over hers._

_She jerked up in surprise but didn’t push him away, and ran her gloved hands through his messy hair, drawing him closer to her. The kiss was gentle and intimate– that had to be what stunned her the most– but she didn’t have much time to enjoy it before he drew away from her and kissed his way to her ear. “You mean absolutely nothing to me, Ladybug,” he whispered, as she realized with dismay that magic kisses didn’t always break horrible spells. “I could never love you.” He sat up to look at the horror that was just splashed all over her face and smiled at her. “Breaking your heart will be as easy as stealing candy from a baby,” he said._

_“You’re not the real Cat Noir.”_

_“Ain’t I?” he wondered, wide-eyed. “I feel like him, though. Same skin, same voice… same hatred for you…”_

_“Cat Noir doesn’t hate me!” she exclaimed, furious, blushing red, cutting him off._

_“Doesn’t he?” he asked again, something like friskiness shining in his eyes. “After all these times you rejected him, over and over and over again? I mean, you surely know what is said about love and hate? There’s but a very thin line between them, and believe me when I tell you, I crossed that bridge_ years _ago…_ Cataclysm! _” he called upon his destructive powers, right before he clawed her abdomen._

_It hurt so much Ladybug couldn’t even scream. She just stared at him, the smug look on his face, in complete disbelief, as she tried to press her hands against the wound to keep herself from bleeding to death._

_“Now… what do you say we take those earrings back from you?”_

_She grunted, forced herself to look at him. She couldn’t speak, her own body was trying to kill her, but she still drove her words out of her mouth. “You forget that I am the Ladybug Miraculous holder… I’m not defeated that easily, either,” she struggled to speak up, and reached for his wrists, as his fingers were just about to take her jewels off. “_ Miraculous Ladybug _,” she invoked her regenerative powers and Cat Noir watched in awe as the wound on her stomach closed up immediately, her eyes, turning completely white, and shining, and her earrings beeping urgently._

_Master Fu has already mentioned something like this before, has even been training the both of them to merge their souls with that of their Miraculous, ever since Hawk Moth’s akumas were becoming stronger and more dangerous– ever since Ladybug and Cat Noir’s injuries were becoming more serious, deadlier, even, but Ladybug has never used her powers to that extent before, has never allowed Tikki to take over her completely, and Cat Noir knew it wasn’t really her anymore when she punched him in the face to knock him out– before passing out, he wondered how would he look like if he ever allowed Plagg to take over the transformation._

_The battle ended shortly after, when Ladybug appeared between Carapace and the Enchantress and put an end to their fight with a few simple kicks. She snapped the cursed object away from the akuma’s hands and broke it on the ground, before she caught the dark-winged butterfly and purified it, as she restored all the damage it had done to the city. She left the unconscious figure of Cat Noir to the care of Rena Rouge and Carapace, and flew to the nearest hospital, taking the time to de-transform in an empty parking lot, before she managed to walk inside the emergency rooms. She fell right before the front desk._

_She heard nurses screaming and felt people holding her down, and she just hoped Tikki would be alright, for the last thing she remembered, was leaving the little goddess under a car, thinking she would be safe and untroubled there, while she slept through this huge loss of energy._

 

Ladybug dropped to her knees, as her heart was racing inside her chest and her blood came rushing to her face, thumping against her eardrums. She was cold suddenly and her whole body was shivering. Her thoughts howled inside her head and her skin was cracking everywhere, and the earth was shaking all around. When her back hit the ground, she felt as if her limbs were slowly melting away, and her teeth and nails were falling off, and she couldn’t make sense of anything.

            There was too much noise around her, too many people, and no one to understand the words she was so desperately trying to get out. She was screaming and no one was listening.

            “Ladybug! _Ladybug_!” a distant voice called her name, and it seemed so urgent and desperate and familiar, Ladybug forced herself out of the darkness.

            She woke up so suddenly, Cat Noir and Carapace moved to give her some space. Her eyes were wide open, shining with tears and terror, still watching the black sky above her, as she tried to get ahold of her breath. She let her hands run along her stomach, where she felt dark-red blood spilling out of a claw-shaped wound and mixing with the bright red of her suit.

            “Wh-where am…?” she tried to speak, but her mouth and throat were too dry for the words to slide on them easily– some even found themselves stuck behind her teeth.

            “You’re with us, you’re fine– Y-you’re okay…” Cat Noir’s face came right into her vision, his messy blond hair, vibrant, around his head, like a pulsing halo, golden, just as any angel’s, and his eyes, so green, and sweet, and honest, they were unmistakable. “You’re okay,” he said again, but all she could hear was ‘ _I could never love you_ ,’ and ‘ _Breaking your heart would be as easy as stealing candy from a baby_.’ “Hey, you’re okay, we’re here…” he continued to whisper, this time, daring to brush off some of the hair she had in her eyes. ‘ _Now… what do you say we take those earrings back from you?’_

            She slapped his wrist in such a sudden and violent way, jerking away so abruptly, even Carapace had to step back. “Don’t touch me!” she exclaimed, as she sat up quickly and drew back toward a wall, hugging her legs against her with such vigor, Cat Noir’s heart almost broke. She covered her earlobes with her hands and hissed at the pair in a desperate attempt to protect her Miraculous.

            Cat Noir and Carapace just watched her, bewildered, but she was still eying them suspiciously.

            “Hey, LB,” Carapace tried, taking a cautious step toward her, “hey, you’re safe. You’re with us. It’s alright.” He stepped forward again, and crouched beside her, looking right into her. “You fainted. You must be exhausted– we all are. It’s fine. We’re here with you. Just try to breathe in and out, okay?” he advised her, getting close enough to touch her shoulder, squeezing it softly, and Cat Noir almost punched him right then, if he wasn’t so worried about Ladybug. “We’re still in the maze. Rena is working to get us out. Do you remember?” Slowly, Ladybug nodded, only now beginning to relax– the mention of Rena Rouge always had this effect on her– she always felt safer with her around. “That’s good. It’s progress. Can you say something? Can you tell the date?”

            “I…” Ladybug tried and thought about it for a while, but gave up finally, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Carapace assured her. “It’s the spell. You didn’t hit your head– that guy caught you right in time,” he said chirpily, gesturing to Cat Noir who was standing behind him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

            Ladybug closed her eyes and rummaged her brain for her most recent memories. The most vivacious images were that of apple-green eyes narrowing at her, shining with hate and cruelty, as a hand endowed with destructive powers of death and annihilation plunged into her, cutting her deeply. The smell of blood still embedded in her nostrils.

            “ _Ladybug_!” Carapace’s voice brought her back to the present, this time, with both his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. Her eyes flew right open, puffy, and shot with red. “Hey, where did you go?”

            “I…” She was breathing heavily, clutching on her stomach, trying to convince herself over and over again that she was safe, that she was cured now, that it was just an old memory. “I’m fine. Can you help me up?”

            Carapace didn’t seem convinced, but complied nonetheless. Once on her feet and free from the green superhero’s grip, Ladybug raced toward Cat Noir and shoved him into the opposite wall, before she unhooked his pole from his belt and held it against his throat, pressing hard enough to strangle him.

            “ _LB!_ Are you _insane_?!” Carapace yelled at her, and he was about to throw himself at her, when Cat Noir caught his eyes and, with a glare, forbid him to get any closer. “Let him go this instant! You are not yourself,” he insisted instead, but she wasn’t listening, completely focused on her partner.

            “You’re not the real him!” she screamed at Cat Noir, rivers pouring on her cheeks. “You are a liar!”

            “Ladybug! It’s _him_! You’re _imagining_ things– it’s the spell, _please_!” Carapace tried to reason with her again. Ladybug turned to him and hissed, shoving the weapon even harder against her partner’s neck.

            “Shut _up_ , Shelly!” Cat Noir pained to let out. “Let _me_.”

            “Oh, my _fucking_ Christ…” Carapace mumbled to himself, grabbing on to his hair and jumping in place, as he tried to calm down. “Oh my God, she’s gonna kill him– Oh my _God_ , _Alya_ is gonna kill _me_! Cat Noir, I swear to God if you die, I’ll _kill_ you!”

            “I said shut up!” Cat Noir was frowning now, courageously holding Ladybug’s gaze, as he spoke. Carapace gulped audibly and finally obeyed, stepping back, before he started dialing his girlfriend to get them out of there ASAP. “I’m me, I swear,” he heard Cat Noir whisper and made a silent prayer to every god, devil or ghost that was listening, begging them to fix Ladybug’s head before it was too late.

            “The _real_ Cat Noir _loves_ me!” she cried, and Cat Noir opened his eyes in shock, stunned by her words. “He told me he was _in love_ with me,” she continued. “He wouldn’t _lie_.”

            “Oh my… _Alya_ , please, please, _please_ , pick up!” Carapace’s voice was whining in the background.

            “What are you talking about?” was Cat Noir’s only answer and Ladybug’s face twisted angrily, as she aggressively pushed him against the wall.

            “You _love_ me,” she said again. “You have to love me! You _said_ so.”

            “Of course, I love you!” he blurted out, looking just as astonished as before. “How could you have ever doubted it?” This time, it was Ladybug who seemed surprised, as she loosened her grip on her partner’s pole– Cat Noir could finally breathe. “Ladybug, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids… I– I… I never stopped. _Please_ , you have to believe me. I _love_ you. I’ve _always_ loved _you_. There has never been _anyone_ else.”

            As if she was just awoken from a bad dream, Ladybug suddenly realized what she was doing and immediately let go of Cat Noir’s stick, which hit the ground with a metallic ding. She watched it until it stopped quivering, then peered up at her partner, her eyes drowned in tears. “I’m so… I’m _sorry_ ,” she managed to choke out before he just took her in his arms and squeezed her so hard, the words just died in her mouth. She hugged him back, fiercely, crying into his shoulder.

            “Hey, it’s fine, it’s all fine, now… You’re back, okay? You’re back with us. It’s fine. It’s the spell, it’s alright,” Cat Noir kept on murmuring reassuring words, tracing soothing circles on her back, until she stopped shivering. “The more time we spend in this labyrinth, the madder we become,” he told her. “We brought you back, now, that’s all that matters, shhh…”

            “Cat Noir, she’s in my _head_ … I can’t…”

            “Then focus on _me_ ,” he ordered her, cutting her off. “You focus on me. You’ll be alright. I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear it on my life.”

            “I’m so sorry…”

            “Shhh…” he continued, gently stroking her hair. “It’s already in the past. It wasn’t you.”

            Ladybug slowly broke out of his embrace, though she was still holding on to him. “I…” She wanted to say that she loved him too, but instead, she just lifted herself up on her toes and kissed him. It was swift and delicate and simple, yet it made them both blush redder than her costume.

            She crouched over his stick and picked it up, before awkwardly handing it to him. He thanked her with a nod, barely catching it in between his finger, and hooked it to his belt– or _tried_ to, at least– it took him maybe three or four attempts to succeed.

            They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before Carapace dragged them back to the present and told them Rena was going to open the portal soon.

            “She says that you’ll feel something pulling at your Miraculous and absolutely forbids you to fight it– it’s what is going to get you through those walls, got it?” the green superhero asked and they both nodded in response. Carapace sighed deeply, sent his okay to Rena before putting his shield back on, and grabbed Ladybug and Cat Noir’s hands, as the three of them stood in a circle. He closed his eyes. “Jesus, I feel so stupid right now.”

 

***

 

Chloe Bourgeois watched as her kwami tried to finish her piece of honey cake as fast as she could, standing in a deserted building, right behind the lobby’s staircase. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was shivering in the cold weather. She was surely too proud to admit it, to even allow the thought, but this new akuma had truly scared her to death– Pollen could see it at the way she was still clutching to the golden cross she wore around her neck.

            Chloe was never a _believer_ , really. She didn’t pray before going to sleep, never went to church on Sunday– she didn’t even believe in angels or demons, or anything. She only believed in expansive clothes and fashion magazines, in Saturday morning brunches with her friends, and in reality T.V. shows. She had never confessed once in her life before her grandmother has given her the necklace, didn’t even know the difference between the Old and New Testament–

            She didn’t know exactly when all of that changed. She only knew that after having witnessed with that much madness, and evil and dark arts, she just _had_ to start hoping that something better awaited her, that everything had a meaning, and that her life wasn’t useless– that she wasn’t a waste of space and oxygen.

            Chloe Bourgeois has come a long way to become the superhero she was today. Chloe was kinder, more selfless and generous, loyal, she was braver, louder, and bolder, all grown up, now, and has grown out of her little diva curls– her hair was short now, shorter even than Cat Noir’s, and Pollen absolutely loved this new look on her. She had a white scar on her face that she got during an akuma attack some years ago– it went from the corner of her eye all the way to the end of her chin. It was hideous, but each time Chloe glanced at it in a mirror, she couldn’t help but feel proud of it.

            “Did you hear that?” she asked Pollen in a worried voice, as she lifted her head toward the ceiling.

            “What is it, Your Majesty?”

            “I think I can hear someone crying…”

            “I don’t hear anything,” Pollen admitted honestly.

            The cries continued, though, more insistent this time, as if they felt someone was finally here to hear them. “ _Listen_!” Chloe exclaimed in a whisper, as she got out from under the stairs and began climbing them, Pollen right behind her. “There’s someone in there!” she told her kwami, her steps coming into a halt right in front of a closed apartment door. She tried its handle– it was locked. “Pollen? Can you do something, please?”

            Pollen sighed, but obeyed nonetheless and faded through the door, which opened immediately. It was dark inside but, when Chloe tried to switch the lights on, nothing happened.

            “Hello?” she said aloud, her voice, echoing around the walls. “Is anyone in there?”

            The door closed behind her in a violent sound, making her shiver, and she hugged her kwami tighter as she began to take a couple steps toward the living room. “The apartment is empty, Your Majesty,” Pollen whispered to her owner. “I’m feeling better now; we should probably go back out there…”

            “I swear I heard something,” Chloe insisted. “ _Hello?!”_ Still no answer. “I-I just want to help! I– My name is Chloe Bourgeois… I’m the holder of the Bee Miraculous! I’m Queen Bee, I’m here to help…” Silence. “Last chance before I turn back!”

            “In _here_! I’m here… I’m stuck, _please_ …” it was a man’s voice, coming from the left, and Chloe ran toward it, Pollen on her shoulder.

            She stumbled in a kitchen with a giant hole in a wall that gave to the outside and a man lying on the cold white tiles, his legs squashed under a pile of rocks and broken furniture.

            He had both his hands over his face and his skin was frozen when she crouched beside him and touched him slightly. “I’m going to get out of here, I promise,” she swore, before she called upon her transformation and threw her spinning top toward the rocks, making them vibrate so quickly, they began to fall around them, making it easier for the man to slip out from under them. “Come on! You need to get out, I can only hold them for so long…!”

            “I’m sorry, Chloe, I can’t move– My legs… I’ve been stuck in here for a long time already…” he coughed out. He had dirt all over his face and probably in his lungs too and, when Bee turned his way to look at him, a furious lightning bolt hit her in the heart as she recognized him immediately– it was Kim– a-a g-guy she went to High School with.

            “Ugh,” Queen Bee let out in frustration before taking back her spinning top and tying it around her hips. The rocks she was able to push a little out of the way fell on Kim’s feet again and he screamed in pain as he felt them. “I’m sorry!” she apologized and sounded sincere. “I’ll get you out,” she said again, as she crawled toward the pile of rocks and began moving them aside one by one.

            They were huge and heavy, but she was a superhero, she kept on repeating to herself. She had super strength and super speed, and she was going to get her old friend out of here.

            When she couldn’t carry the rocks anymore, she started to roll them aside, stocking them next to the disconnected fridge or under the broken table. The cupboards and drawers that fell on him were easier to dispose of and, after maybe twenty minutes of her struggling, she finally managed to completely free one of his legs.

            “It hurts!” he yelled and Bee tried to reassure him the best she could.

            “You’ve been in here for hours– the blood has stopped flowing to your legs, but it’s not going to hurt for long, I promise,” she lied–

            Truthfully, she had no idea how long it was going to hurt. She simply knew she had seen many people in his case, who also spent a huge amount of time buried under rocks and building constructions, pushed inside an ambulance and taken to the nearest hospitals without even being given the option to see if their families were doing okay at City Hall– She convinced herself she was doing the right thing as she dialed the paramedics and gave them her position.

            “Think about other stuff, keep your brain working, while I try to get out the other leg,” she advised, but Kim just shook his head, closed his eyes and bit his lips to keep himself from shouting again. Bee felt her heart break a little but didn’t say anything– she knew it wasn’t her place. “Okay, last rock… are you ready?” He didn’t say anything, just nodded, and Bee removed it the quickest she could. She heard him let out a sore cry before she ran toward him and grabbed him by the armpits to pull him away from the rocks. Then, she could finally breathe again. “We need you to get you to a hospital,” she said, as she made him sit up against his kitchen’s counters. “They need to examine you. I already called the ambulance, it’s on its way.”

            He shook his head stubbornly. “You need to get me to City Hall. I need to make sure my boy is alright.”

            The shock of the information hit her hard in the head. Kim was a father, now? “I’m sure he’s fine,” she tried to sound convincing, but couldn’t hold the cracking in her voice.

            “No,” he refused. “ _I_ need to make sure he’s alright. I’m not going anywhere if it’s not at City Hall.”

            “Everyone has been taken out of City Hall and to the suburbs,” Bee bargained. “Your son is probably already on a bus, and very far from here. In a safe place, I promise.”

            “I _need_ to _see_ him!” he snapped at her, and Bee jerked away at the harshness in his voice.

            “You need to get to a hospital so you don’t _die_ and your kid won’t have to live without a father,” she said bitterly, frowning at him.

            “I…” The words caught in his throat and he couldn’t speak anymore. He looked at her with despair in his eyes, and Bee shifted next to him, looking down instantly, suddenly feeling immensely ashamed.

            “I’m s-sorry… I didn’t mean it like that,” she apologized in a small voice.

            “Sure, you did,” he sighed, cutting her off. “It’s fine, because you’re right.” He shrugged. “It was always something I admired in you, anyway– you don’t care about shouting blunt truths in people’s faces, as long as it makes them understand.” He turned his face to look at her. “You can be extremely diplomatic but you could never deal too long with stubbornness and stupid.”

            “You’re not stupid…” she said finally, looking down, and blushing a little.

            “I was, though. I was _so_ stupid.”

            “Don’t say that…”

            He smiled. “You’ve changed. You were not like this when we were little.”

            She shrugged. “I became a superhero. It changes you– shifts your priorities around. Pollen… she’s my… uh… she’s what allows me to transform- She made me a good person.”

            “You were always a good person. You were just lost.”

            She blushed. “I was sure you had forgotten about me,” she confessed coyly.

            He smiled, half-closing his eyes. “I could never forget about you, Chloe.”

            Bee’s eyes widened at that and when she peered up at Kim, he was still staring at her, softly, and handsome as ever– years were nothing but kind to him, she thought to herself, as she bit on her lower lip. She turned away instantly. “Uh… well, what about you, huh? You’re married, now! You have a kid– how… What’s it like being a _father_?”

            He chuckled. “Scary is a word for it, I guess. It’s a _lot_ of responsibilities– it’s very exhausting… but also very worth it. Sam is my pride and joy.”

            “Your son’s name is Sam?” she asked, though she knew the question was dumb. He nodded. “A-and… y-your wife?” she continued to press on. “What’s she like?”

            “I’m not married,” he told her, smirking.

            She blushed again, darker this time. “Oh. I’m sorry– I thought, uh… than, who…?”

            “Her name’s Ondine.”

            “I… remember her,” Bee simply said, when Kim didn’t add anything else. “Yeah, you two started dating in 12th grade, right?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her legs. “You went to prom together. I… was wondering why you didn’t ask me,” she admitted, extremely shy all of a sudden, and Kim raised both his eyebrows at her.

            “ _Really_?”

            “Uh… yeah, but like… not _really_. It was just like a thought I had, you know. I didn’t drool over it or anything.”

            Kim seemed unconvinced. “Right.”

            “So… you and Ondine, then?”

            “We’re not together anymore if that’s what you wanted to know,” he giggled but had to stop himself when he was reminded of the pain in his legs.

            “Oh, good! I-I mean– _Not_ good, obviously, because well… you have a child together and uh… but like… Ugh– _Nevermind_!” she said, immediately getting to her feet to quit embarrassing herself. Her spinning top began to ring– it was the paramedics calling her. “Uh… I’m gonna go check on Sam and Ondine to see if they’re still at City Hall, while you’ll be in the ambulance, so don’t worry, really. I’ll bring them to you once this whole thing is over.”

            “It’s okay, I trust you. Thank you for staying with me.”

            For a second, Bee didn’t know what to respond, so she just stared at him, bright red, and her mouth wide open, before she was able to choke out a small, “you’re welcome!” and took off. Kim didn’t have enough time to collect his thoughts after that, for firemen and doctors came rushing through his apartment, tying him to a trolley and taking him away.

            Queen Bee kept her promise, and flew to City Hall to check on his family. “Kim is fine,” she assured Ondine when she got to meet her– she was gorgeous, with big bright hair and deep blue eyes, her face, like that of a mermaid, and scattered with thousands of freckles. “He just wanted to make sure you were okay… and y-you are…! So, uh… I better go um… see if anyone else needs me.”

            “Where’s he?” Ondine pressed her. She was holding to a sleeping toddler with dark hair and fair skin– Bee was stunned by his resemblance with Kim. Sam had freckles all over his face too, just like his mother, and his cheeks were damped in angry tears.

            “He’s been taken to a hospital outside of town. The ones here have been destroyed and completely deserted a few hours ago,” she explained swiftly. “The routes are secure, now, so don’t worry. He’s fine. I got to him in time.”

            “Thank you,” the red-haired woman let out a deep sigh, hugging her son against her.

            “It’s only my job, you know. A-and… everything will be over soon, I swear. I’ll take you to him, then.”

            Ondine smiled so brightly, her eyes seemed to light up. “I would– Thank you, we’d really appreciate that,” she said, and Bee returned her smile, before she ran out of City Hall and into the streets of the city.

            Her heart was racing fast, as she slid over the broken tiles of Paris’ rooftops, but oddly enough, the feeling didn’t bother her– she was still all wired-up after seeing Kim again after all these years. _And_ he was single, right? I mean, that’s what he said anyway– not that she was interested or anything, of course.

            “Bee! Over here!” a familiar voice called her, and she turned around only to see Ladybug and Cat Noir, and Rena Rouge and Carapace, standing on the other end of the rooftop she was on. She ran toward them instantly, jumping into Rena’s and Carapace’s arms.

            “Oh, _finally_!” she almost cried as they hugged her back. “Ugh, please, _please_ , never leave me out there alone _ever_ again…” she snorted, slowly breaking away. She was about to hug Ladybug and Cat Noir as well but froze and backed off when she remembered they didn’t like to be touched. “I’m _so_ glad you’re all safe!”

            Ladybug smiled widely. “You did a good job, Queen Bee,” she complimented her, and Bee’s eyes widened at her words, before Ladybug wrapped her arms around her and hugged her. “We would’ve never made it out without you.” Bee was so surprised, she stood still the first few seconds, but finally came to her senses and hugged her back.

            Cat Noir joined them a little while after, along with Rena and Carapace, and the five of them just stayed like this for a couple of minutes, before they all let go of each other.

            “Oh, Ladybug! I almost forgot!” Bee exclaimed suddenly, reaching for something she had tied behind her back. It was a closed jar with an angry little dark butterfly inside. She handed it to the spotted superheroine. “I believe that’s yours.”

            Ladybug chuckled and took the jar from her. She released the butterfly and let it fly a bit, before she caught it with her yo-yo and purified it. Everyone around her sighed in relief. “ _Miraculous Ladybug_!” she yelled at the sky, as she tossed her yo-yo in the air, freeing a horde of billions of little ladybugs that began working on restoring the city.

            “So, what’s next?” Rena was the first one to speak, as she turned to Ladybug, her hands on her hips.

            Ladybug’s face fell, and she instinctively turned to Cat Noir. “We know who Hawk Moth is, and we’re going to stop him, _today_. We’ll need all the help we can have, but I understand if you prefer going back to your families and make sure everyone’s okay,” he said, and everyone in the team held their breaths.

            “I was able to check on my parents via phone, and they’re fine. Cat Noir, too. So, we’ll be going,” Ladybug added.

            There was a silence, before Rena grabbed Carapace’s hand and took a step forward. “My family’s right there,” she said. “I don’t have anyone else in Paris, anyway– Everyone I care about is right here,” she confessed, looking right into Ladybug’s eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

            Ladybug and Cat Noir’s faces lighted up at that.

            Carapace squeezed his girlfriend’s hand back and straightened his shoulders. “I’m coming, too. There’s no way I’m gonna miss the fall of the Hawk Moth,” he said. “That dude’s gotta pay for what he did.”

            Again, Ladybug and Cat Noir were thankful. They turned toward Queen Bee, who was nervously playing with her yellow fingers. “You can stay here, and make sure the people are alright,” Ladybug assured her in a soft voice. “It is not an easy choice to make. Last time we faced Hawk Moth, he got into our heads and made us see things we didn’t want to see,” she whispered, laying a gentle hand on Bee’s shoulder. “Even if it _is_ different this time, I will never force you to relive that.”

            Bee shook her head. “We understand if you prefer to stay,” Rena insisted.

            A couple of tears glistened on her mask, and Bee peered up at her friends, looking at each one of them. “Hawk Moth is going to pay for what he did to my parents,” she said in a steady voice. “There is no way I’m letting it slide.”

            Ladybug and Rena looked at her with sad eyes, and Carapace tried to smile at her, while Cat Noir nodded grimly. “He’s gonna pay for everything he put us through,” the latter promised, and Ladybug instantly turned to him to grab his hand. “I’m gonna make sure of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! We're almost there... :D Hope you enjoyed :)


	22. Superhero

 

The safety bell still rang in the distance as people were signing out of City Hall, slowly returning to their daily routines. The mayor of Paris has declared the rest of the week as days of national mourning in honor to all the victims of the Oblivion attack; schools, as well as universities and all public institutions were thus closed, and even public transports were unavailable. A small number of shops and restaurants, however, still decided to receive customers, and most of the little private companies stayed open to business. While some people needed time to recompose themselves and readjust to the new normal, others were desperate to hang on to any form of stability and constancy they still had– so, they woke up, after the latest akuma disaster, showered, dressed up, had breakfast and went to work, as they tried to convince themselves that all was good and alright.

            Tikki’s ladybugs did a decent job at putting everything to its place and fixing the city, and even though their powers were indeed extraordinary, even they couldn’t bring back the dead or heal the injured– the Ministry of Health and Solidarity was still working on the dreadful numbers to announce the public.

            When the news of Oblivion’s defeat got out, people started to return to Paris– with the exception of course to those who were under medical assistance in suburban hospitals and who weren’t allowed to leave– the medical facilities of the capital were still very much empty, though just beginning to fill up with doctors and nurses that were returning from the countryside to attend to wounded Parisians that weren’t able to make it outside the city.

            The sun was rising behind the towers of Notre-Dame. Church bells rang all around the capital as a tribute to the dead. Ladybug sighed as she turned her back to the notorious Parisian cathedral and ran the opposite way, toward the town hall’s rooftop in the third district, where Rena Rouge stood tall, staring at the pink and blue sky, quietly waiting for her fellow superhero friends to get back from patrol– they all figured that one last check up around Paris wouldn’t hurt, and went their separate ways something like an hour ago to scour the capital’s streets for any civilian in need. They agreed to meet a couple blocks away from the Agreste mansion as soon as they were done, and the town hall seemed like the least suspicious place of rendezvous that was still close enough to Gabriel’s manor– it took them one day and one night to defeat Oblivion, but none of them really felt the need to rest, the idea of Hawk Moth’s downfall still tickling their synapses.

            “Look, Mommy! It’s Rena Rouge and Ladybug!” a kid shouted from the street below, and the two young women smiled and waved at him, before he was on his way.

            Ladybug looked hesitant as she turned Rena’s way, her arms around herself, and suddenly too shy to hold her gaze. “H-how did you know?” she asked.

            Rena looked a little taken aback by the question, but smiled nonetheless, turning fully to face her best friend. “Honestly, I’m just abashed I haven’t figured it out sooner,” she confessed. “You sure know how to keep a secret.” Ladybug only smirked at her, Rena sighed, and shrugged. “I guess I always had my doubts…”

            “What confirmed them?”

            It was at that moment they were joined by the devilishly handsome Cat Noir. He hooked his pole behind his back and walked to them. “ _Him_ ,” Rena said, half-closing her eyes, as the superhero with golden lion hair wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist to pull her closer to him.

            Ladybug looked confused. “What? _How_?”

            “Oh, _please_ …” Rena sighed, her hands on her hips. She shifted to stand next to Ladybug, taking her by the waist– the exact same way Cat Noir did it before her– and grabbed her hand to kiss her knuckles, making her blush instantly. “Hey there, M’Lady– Looking as fine as always,” she whispered with fluttering eyelids and a wide flirty smile, before she turned Cat Noir’s way to flick his collar bell. “No time for your childish charm, Cat Noir!” she giggled, poking him on the nose and striking a pose. “We have duties to attend to– yeah, _right_.”

            Ladybug and Cat Noir looked amused by her little imitation. “Come on, I don’t sound like that at all!” Ladybug remarked, making Rena pout. “Besides, there’s no way _this_ was what gave me away,” she defied her best friend, lifting an eyebrow at her.

            Rena winced and took a deep breath. “Cat Noir and Ladybug, Paris’s favorite superhero duo, madly in love with each other… Oh, you two, _please_ , it was no secret for anyone at this point,” she rapidly added when they both seemed surprised by her revelation. “My girl Marinette is madly in love with some shady ass guy with green eyes and no name, and that’s your first red flag, babes,” she noted. “Now, this mysterious Daddy has been in the picture for some time, but that hasn’t really stopped Marinette from dating around and lining up quite an _impressive_ list of potential boyfriends–“

            “There weren’t _that_ much,” Ladybug quickly interrupted her, when she caught a glimpse of Cat Noir’s discontentment.

            Rena rolled her eyes at her, smiling craftily. “Sure, hon, whatever you say. Anywho! So, that’s when my baby girl over here starts dating some random Apollo with blond hair and, get that, _green_ eyes,” she said, and she addressed Ladybug as if she was talking to an infant, pinching both her cheeks, and making weird sounds with her mouth. “A guy, might I add,” she continued in her normal voice, “she _swore_ she wouldn’t try anything with, because he was Felix’s brother or whatever– and Marinette is not really one to break her promises…”

            “Why don’t you get to your point already, Césaire…?” Ladybug frowned at the foxy superhero, folding her arms together.

            “Ugh! Don’t rush my moment, Cheng!” Rena tsked in annoyance. “Where was I?” she wondered aloud.

            “You were speaking of a green-eyed blond Apollo,” Cat Noir reminded her, a sly look on his face.

            Rena pursed her lips. “Right. Don’t get used to me calling you that, though, _Blondie_. So, yeah, they start dating out of the blue and even though they just _met_ … I mean, I’ve known this girl forever– I _know_ when my Mari’s in love– and it ain’t easy peasy to catch her attention, you know? So, that’s another red flag right _there_! And then, ‘suddenly’ Ladybug and Cat Noir are casually smooching tushies on random rooftops?” she finally blurted out, and one could hear the quotation marks in her voice. “Come _on_ , show my investigative skills some respect!” she waggled her eyebrows at the pair, and they all laughed together.

            “You didn’t say anything, though,” Ladybug remarked after a while.

            Rena shrugged, shook her head. “Hey, you kept it a secret for a reason. _Besides_ , I never told you I was Rena Rouge, either. So, we’re even-steven.” Ladybug chuckled at that. “Now, I just live in fear that your incessant, disgusting high school flirting will double in amount… _yuck_ …”

            “ _What_?! That’s _so_ uncalled for– _He_ ’s the one who’s constantly running after anything that has a hole in it!” Ladybug pouted, rolling her eyes heavily.

            “ _Hey_!” Cat Noir squeaked, trying to sound serious and offended by his girlfriend’s statement.

            “Oh, _please_ ,” Rena ignored him royally, “Cat Noir’s just a natural flirt– it’s part of his superhero persona! _No one_ sees it in a sexual way– Most of the time, he’s more like… an overexcited puppy…”

            “Yeah, she’s right– Wait… _what_? _Hey_!” Cat Noir yelped again, but neither Ladybug nor Rena Rouge deigned to look at him.

            “Whatever,” Ladybug mumbled, her cheeks, completely red, while Rena snickered at her antics. “I know I can hold myself together.”

            Rena Rouge creased her eyelids at her and folded her arms together, a defying look on her face. “Says the girl who has her eyes on aforementioned guy 24/7 and, _if_ my memory is correct– which it definitely is– the girl who had his face as her computer screen saver for _years_!” she exclaimed. “You know, I always figured it was because you admired him so much, like I admired well uh… _you_ , but then, you started dating blond guys with green eyes _exclusively_ , only to always end up ditching them a couple weeks later _tops_ …” she paused, seemed to think about something for a minute, before she carried on, “I think _that_ ’s when I knew you had some kind of an obsession over Paris’s number one eligible bachelor,” she exposed her best friend shamelessly, as a revenge for all the times Marinette had embarrassed her in front of Nino.

            “Gee… and I thought _I_ had a problem,” Cat Noir teased Ladybug, dropping a light kiss on her temple but the latter pushed him away immediately– He was following his girlfriend and her best friend’s little banter closely, fishing for all the dirt available on the former, that he was sure she would never disclose on her own.

            “Hey, you have Ladybug dolls all over your room,” she reminded him, stoic. “I’m sure you did all kind of weird funny stuff with those too,” she accused him, pointing a finger at his chest.

            Cat Noir’s smile only widened. “I may have misheard, of course,” he said, sticking a finger into one of his leather ears and scratching it a bit so that he could supposedly hear better, “but is _the_ Ladybug hereby _admitting_ that she was doing _stuff_ with pictures of _me_?”

            Ladybug pouted and nudged him in his arm, and he just swung his head backward, laughing out loud. “Shut _up_!” Ladybug tried, in vain, to make him stop.

            “Hey, hey,” he whispered, grabbing her by the hips and dragging her toward him, despite her staged reluctance, “I think it’s kinda _hot_ …”

            Ladybug’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Y-you _do_?”

            “Are you kidding?” he said, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Who _wouldn’t_?”

            “See what I meant?” Rena Rouge immediately interrupted them, right when they were about to kiss. “Incessant. _Disgusting._ Flirting. And that shit’s been going on since high school. Seriously, it’s like you guys have absolutely zero notion of public decency.” She let out a deep sigh as she made her way between the two of them, holding them apart, and stood her ground. “ _God_ , it’s like I’m the whole cast of _Stoked_ watching Reef and Lo make-out… Little to say that it’s _exhausting_ and emotionally draining– and _way_ above my pay grade…”

            Ladybug giggled. “You’re one to talk. I caught you with Nino at the back of the _Nargiz_ more times than I can even count!”

            Rena’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with red. “We were _hiding_!” she exclaimed, falsely outraged. “It’s not _my_ fault you’re so much into _voyeurism_!”

            Ladybug’s jaw fell in shock. “I cannot believe _you_!”

            “You deserved it, _missy_ ,” Rena smirked.

            “What’s going on here?” Carapace’s voice interrupted them, as he landed beside them, quickly followed by Queen Bee.

            “Ouh, superhero squabble,” the latter wooed. “Should we call Nadja Chamack?”

            Ladybug smiled at her before she shook her head and put her leader-face back on– Rena and Cat Noir instantly straightened up, all traces of laughter and mischievousness vacating their faces. “Good, now that we’re all here, we can start discussing plans. I mean… we can’t just show up at Hawk Moth’s door, knock, and expect him to let us in, right? …So? Uh… any terrific breakthroughs?”

            “Well, for starters, we need to make sure he _stays_ in the mansion. We don’t want him slipping right under our noses and escaping, like last time. We need to trap him in there,” Bee intervened, folding her arms together.

            Ladybug nodded and glanced at Carapace. “How long can your shield hold?”

            “Uh…” the turtle-themed superhero scratched the back of his head, looking hesitant. “I think I can go for like ten, fifteen minutes tops… before I transform back, I mean.”

            Ladybug grimaced. “Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna cut it. There’s no way we can beat Hawk Moth in less than fifteen minutes. Last time we confronted him, it took us an entire weekend!”

            “Uh… I mean… I could sting you?” Bee suggested. “It’s gonna freeze you, and your powers by extension… So, if you invoke your shield and I sting you then, the shield will hold. It’ll hold for hours if I just leave it, _and_ if there’s no Ladybug miracle, of course,” she added, glancing at the spotted superheroine.

            Rena looked at her with something like wonder and admiration in her eyes– ever since Fu decided to _give_ her the Fox Miraculous, she has been training non-stop with Trixx to make her illusions hold longer and seem more real, but she could never last for more than half an hour before inevitably de-transforming. “You can keep people paralyzed for that long? How?”

            Bee shrugged. “Well, I would have to power up, of course,” she blushed. “And become Ice Queen.”

            Carapace lifted an eyebrow at her. “So… you were going to turn me into an ice cube?”

            Bee glanced away, a little ashamed. “I mean… it was just a suggestion.” She shrugged again, still avoiding his gaze. “I sting you, you turn to ice, and both our powers hold until all the ice melts away… Boom. We have a shield that prevents Hawk Moth to leave the mansion.”

            “Isn’t it dangerous?” Rena Rouge worried, remembering the people that froze to death during the _Frozer_ incident, a few years back.

            “Uh… not as long as he stays transformed, _if_ he powers up as well,” Bee replied. “The venom will considerably slow you and your powers down, so that you won’t be transforming back for a while, even though you used your shield… but… You’ll go back to your civilian form eventually, and _that_ ’s when it could get dangerous, yes.”

            Rena Rouge’s eyes widened at that, and she instinctively reached for her boyfriend’s arm, grabbing it strongly with both her hands, and looking like she was ready to repudiate Queen Bee’s proposition, and urge the squad to quickly come up with something else– when Carapace took a deep breath, nodded at the yellow superhero before he turned back to Ladybug, who was still thinking the whole thing through. “I think it could work,” he said. “What do you say?”

            Ladybug immediately glanced at Rena, who was frowning at her, silently forbidding her to give her okay. She shrugged. “Look,” she sighed, bowing her head, “there’s only two ways this could go– it can either go extremely well and we get the book and the Miraculouses back by nightfall, or it goes terribly wrong and…” She’d rather didn’t finish her sentence. “I’d rather not risk it. So… I guess it’s best if we find another way…”

            Carapace shook his head. “If we fail tonight, he’ll be onto us anyway. Right now, he doesn’t know what we’re planning, and we should use the element of surprise at our advantage– boost up any chances we got at success, you know? And Bee’s right. We need to trap Hawk Moth inside the manor. I’m your best shot.”

            “But, _babe_ … what if…” Rena started, her eyes watering, “what if something goes wrong?”

            Carapace laid a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “What if everything goes right? We would have saved all of Paris. Besides,” he added, winking at Bee, “I trust you. I trust all of you,” he repeated, looking at each one of his friends. “I trust you with my life. I’ve fought alongside you for years. You’ve got this.”

            “We trust you too, Carapace,” Ladybug was the first one to speak after that. “Tonight is the night we’re gonna win.”

            Carapace smiled and they all smiled back. “Stage one: we trap the butterfly’s ass. Done,” he said, making the whole squad chuckle lightly, before they were interrupted by Cat Noir.

            “W-wait,” the latter remarked, “there are people in the mansion. I’m willing to bet Fa– I mean _Gabriel_ didn’t give them the day off. We cannot just lock them in there– we would be jeopardizing their safety.”

            “We’ll need to get them out before, then,” Carapace thought out loud.

            “But… how do we do that?” Rena wondered.

            “Easy,” Ladybug replied. “We make them believe their shift is already over.” She turned toward the rising sun. “How hard is it to turn a sunrise into a sunset?” she asked her best friend.

            “I just need to move some colors around– it’s a simple trick,” the fox-themed superhero shrugged.

            “Can you make them feel like some amount of time has elapsed, too?” Ladybug pressed her.

            Rena winced. “It’s a little sneakier, but I think I can manage it.”

            “Perfect, then,” Ladybug said, turning back to her team. “There– we got the staff out. I’m sure they’re all just dying to go back to their families anyway.” She paused, took a deep breath, before carrying on, “our main goal is to take the Moth and the Peacock Miraculouses, as well as the book, back from Hawk Moth.”

            “We can sneak in through Adrien Agreste’s window,” Cat Noir added. “He usually leaves it unlocked,” he explained and no one asked him how he knew about that.

            Ladybug turned his way with worry in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she whispered, low enough so that he was the only one who could hear her.

            “More than anything,” he replied, his jaw twitching with anger and anticipation. “All this madness is gotta stop.”

 

***

 

“They’ve won,” Felix announced, his eyes still locked on his phone screen. “Look,” he said, flipping his device over to show Nadja Chamack’s live from the Champs-de-Mars to Bridgette and Natalie. “You can turn off the security system now,” he told the latter. “It seems like you have no reason to keep us locked in here, anymore.”

            Natalie’s eyes bulged in surprise. “Y-yes, of course,” she nodded and she was about to walk out of the room, to her desk, when she was stopped by Emilie.

            “You just learned your father was the number one wanted criminal of the country, and you choose to ignore it?” she hissed.

            “Oh, am I supposed to challenge him to a duel?” Felix mocked her. “I don’t have any powers, might I remind you. Neither does Bridgette, or Natalie. We’re not safe here, so we’re leaving. I will contact the police once I go home– they’ll find a way to inform Cat Noir and Ladybug, and ordinary people will let superheroes handle extraordinary problems. Staying here would just be reckless and idiotic.”

            “ _I_ can handle Hawk Moth, if you give me back my Miraculous,” Emilie spat, glaring at Natalie.

            “I don’t _know_ you,” Felix’s words were hurtful, but Emilie forced herself to swallow them. “I don’t _trust_ you. I may be handing you a weapon that you’ll use against the city. You can’t expect me to be _this_ stupid.”

            “I have no intention of doing that,” Emilie sounded sincere, almost hopeless, but Felix didn’t flinch. She took a deep sigh to get rid of the tears that were building up in her chest. “F-Felix… you have to help me, I beg of you...”

            Emilie was standing in the middle of the living room’s entrance, her arms spread at her sides. Felix made his way to her, his hand in that of Bridgette and Natalie at his heels, and shot her an icy glare that made her shiver. “ _Move_ ,” he seethed, and Emilie could only obey him; she stepped aside, only for Gabriel to appear in the hallway, as if he just materialized out of thin air, to stand in his son’s way.

            “I’m sorry, Felix, but I cannot let you do that,” he sounded grave and looked like someone you couldn’t mess with.

            Felix stood still, paler than ever, and, for the first time in a long time, he had no idea what to do. He gripped on Bridgette’s hand and stared at his father, lips parted, as if he was just about to say something, but no word, in any of the six languages he spoke, seemed suitable enough to exactly pinpoint the emotions that were going through him–

            Gabriel Agreste was truly a terrifying man. He was tall, with perfect white hair and a slim figure. He wore nice, expensive clothes. His Giorgio Armani shoes shone under the chandelier’s lights. His eyes were icy cold, and striking, through his glasses.

            “You’ve _hurt_ people. I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” Felix challenged him, but his voice was shaking and he looked like he was about to cry again.

            “I am your father,” Gabriel reminded him. “And I _forbid_ you to leave.”

            There was such restrained anger in his words, Felix had to step back. “It seems you’re only my father when it suits you,” he said. Gabriel didn’t reply. “I’m leaving,” Felix scoffed, moving past his father, when the latter grabbed his elbow to stop him.

            “I never wanted for you to find out,” he told his son, looking right into his eyes– Felix looked like a younger, more approachable replica of Gabriel. Their eyes were made of the same watery blue and their features were almost identical– the similarities were striking, and Bridgette wondered if Felix will age to become as handsome as Gabriel was– She shooed the thought away immediately– Gabriel Agreste was a _criminal_ for God’s sake. A very _sexy_ criminal, but a criminal still– “I’m sorry,” Gabriel’s apology interrupted her train of thoughts, and she thanked Heaven for that.

            Felix was so stunned by the last part of Gabriel’s sentence, he let go of her hand. She watched him as he gulped audibly, not knowing how to properly react to the situation. “Are you sorry about what you did… or are you sorry you got caught?” he asked. Gabriel’s gaze dropped to the ground. “I can’t let you keep hurting people, Father, _killing_ them–“

            “I’ll bring them back,” Gabriel interrupted him. “Once I get the Ladybug and Black Cat’s Miraculouses, I will use my wish to go back in time and change everything. No one will have to die, because there won’t be any akumas, then– and we will go back to the way it was before. Just the four of us, the beautiful family we always were,” he said, glancing at the family portrait that hanged above the fireplace. “It will be as if the past fifteen years have never happened.”

            Felix’s face twisted in a grimace of disgust as he forced his father to let go of his arm. “You’re _mad_.”

            “I just want what’s best for you and your brother, Felix,” Gabriel shook his head and sighed. He was talking to Felix as if the latter was the close-minded idiot that refused to see further than the end of his nose. “I just want us to be a family again.”

            “What _family_?” Felix spat. “Your wife _left_ you. Your sons are _broken_ – And you’re a criminal. You could’ve fixed everything right from the beginning– you could’ve focused on being the father Adrien and I deserved, instead of focusing on getting _her_ back,” he said, his jaw tense with anger and hatred, and he couldn’t look at either of his parents. “You could’ve moved on and married someone else for all that matters! You could’ve found us _another_ mom– one that wouldn’t have _left_. But you were selfish. You only thought about yourself.” He paused. He was breathing heavily and felt like he was about to throw up. He took a step back, and almost fell, but Bridgette caught him in time and steadied him back on his feet. “It’s too late, now. _Please_ , Father, give back your Miraculous to Ladybug and Cat Noir,” he pleaded faintly. “I’ll forgive you for everything, if you do so. Then, we could start again, and try to be this family you always dreamed about. You don’t need _another_ one; you just need to put in some kind of effort and fix _this one_.”

            Gabriel’s eyes widened at that. “I have come this far, a-and you are asking me to throw it all away…?”

            “ _Yes_ ,” Felix immediately interrupted him. Everyone remained silent– It was the first time anyone has heard Gabriel Agreste stutter. Natalie stood back, watching the scene with a knotted stomach– she knew that, if Gabriel was going to fall, she was going to fall with him– she was his accomplice, after all, and there’s no court in the world that would look past this detail. Emilie didn’t know what to say, so she chose not to intervene. “I’m asking you to give it all away, for Adrien and for _me_. I’m asking you to be our father again. I’m asking you to prove me that you would do _anything_ for your sons.”

            Gabriel took a deep breath– Felix seemed hopeful, waiting for his answer with anticipation. “Ask of me anything else,” the world-renown fashion designer finally said, and Bridgette was certain she heard her boyfriend’s heart shatter in his chest.

            She took him by the arm to make her presence known, but Felix didn’t seem to notice her. “Then you can’t ask me to stay, nor can you ask me to keep my mouth shut,” he pronounced dimly. He turned to Natalie. “Please, Natalie, open the gates.”

            “You are not to move from your position, Natalie,” Gabriel immediately hissed at her, and Natalie, who was just about to step forward and join Felix and Bridgette, retreated to her corner obediently. “Good,” he complimented her, folding his hands behind his back, and that was _it_ for Felix.

            The young man simply stormed out of the room, as everyone just stood there, stunned and perplexed as ever, and made his way to Natalie’s desk, grabbing the remote that controlled the mansion’s security system and lifting it up himself. Bridgette, who wasn’t really feeling like staying in the same room as Hawk Moth, Hawk Moth’s maybe-soon-to-be-ex-fiancée (it still wasn’t exactly all that clear) and Hawk Moth’s ex-wife, ran after him, as he headed to his father’s office and toward his mom’s giant Gustav Klimt painting.

            “Felix, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

            Felix glanced at her over his shoulder, offered her a soft smile, before he just took his mother’s portrait off to show her the safe it was hiding.

            “What’s _that_?” Bridgette sounded impressed, and Felix chuckled, before he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her to him. “Do you know the code?”

            “I’m sure I can guess it easily,” he answered, entering in his mother’s birthdate. It clicked right open and Felix kept himself from throwing a fist in the air. “Here it is,” he said, reaching for the Peacock Miraculous– Gabriel didn’t even bother to hide it behind a book– it just stood there, waiting for anyone to take it.

            “Are you gonna use it?” Bridgette wondered, her eyes wide with worry and admiration.

            Felix shook his head. “I wouldn’t know how to.”

            “Step aside, son,” Gabriel’s voice echoed behind them. “Please, don’t be _stupid_.”

            As Felix and Bridgette turned around to face him, they were met with Hawk Moth. Instinctively, Felix shifted to stand before his girlfriend, the Peacock Miraculous still in his fist. “You can’t hurt me,” he defied his father.

            “Maybe not,” Hawk Moth obliged, “but I don’t have a problem hurting your little friend, there.”

            Felix froze at those words. “I won’t let you!”

            Hawk Moth let out a horrible cackle as he pointed the end of his cane toward his son. “I’m curious. What can you do to stop me?”

            “He could let me kill you,” a strong voice arose from behind Hawk Moth, before something kicked him in the back of his leg, almost making him lose balance, before Emilie appeared in Felix’s vision, tall, and flawless in the sunset light. She yanked Hawk Moth’s weapon away from him, holding it firmly in her fist, as she took the blade out of its scabbard, before she grabbed her ex-husband by his cape and placed the sharp sword under his chin. “Stay still, now, I don’t want to get blood on the carpet.”

            Felix was about to scream to stop her, when Hawk Moth laughed out loud, making him back away, a hand over his mouth. The supervillain swung his head back and hit his ex-wife in her jaw, with enough strength to send her spiraling and colliding with the window. He picked up his sword on the ground before he stood up again and turned around to face Emilie. “Do you really despise me this much, Emilie?” he asked her, and he almost sounded hurt.

            Emilie frowned and spat blood on the cold white tiles of her ex-husband’s office floor. “ _Yes_. Now, even more, than I ever did before.”

            “I see.” Hawk Moth shrugged, as he walked toward her and crouched before her. “You know, I’m not the monster you think me to be, and I must admit that your _determination_ to prove to me how much you hate me is not appealing at all. Maybe I _will_ change my plans, after all. Maybe I’ll just wipe all traces of your existence from this life– Maybe I’ll just make you disappear. Poof. Gone.”

            “And kill your own children?” Emilie barked at him, but anyone could see she was terrified under all that rage.

            Hawk Moth nodded. “You’re right. I could never hurt _my_ sons. But I could still destroy you in a hundred different ways,” he murmured, reaching to arrange a strand of her hair behind her ear– Emilie almost bit off his fingers. “You’ve already lost, Emilie,” he chuckled.

            Emilie glanced at Felix with big sorry green eyes. “The peafowl’s name is Duusu,” she told him. “You say ‘ _Feathers flow_ ’ to transform.”

            Felix’s eyes rounded in surprise when he finally understood what his mother was talking about. He looked down at the Miraculous in his hand, then back to her. Hawk Moth was already on his feet, ready to stop him if he tried anything.

            He didn’t know what to do– So he took a chance and tossed the Peacock Miraculous in his mother’s direction. He thought his knees snapped in half when he saw Hawk Moth reach for it, but fortunately, it was Emilie who caught it, and Felix could breathe again.

            “Get out of here,” she ordered him. “And take Natalie with you.”

            “Thank you,” Felix said, grasping Bridgette’s hand and running out of the room.

            The last thing he heard as he passed the main doors of the mansion was Hawk Moth’s enraged scream, before a giant glimmering green dome formed around the manor. “Quick! Get out while you still can!” Ladybug shouted from where she was standing on the roof– Felix only nodded and raced to the street, closely followed by Natalie and Bridgette. When he turned back to face his father’s manor, and against all odds, he found himself hoping for his mother to be okay.

 

***

 

“Okay, I think that’s it– The head of staff counted everyone. He says they all got out through the backdoor,” Ladybug announced, as she landed in the grass before her team– Carapace and Queen Bee were in their civilian forms, standing a little nervous, and Rena Rouge was playing with her flute to distract herself– she really had done a great job at painting the sunset– Ladybug remembered when she had just started out, creating barely realistic 2D figures. “You ready?” she asked Nino and Chloe, and they both nodded in unison.

            Chloe took out a piece of blue-colored honey cake from her purse and tossed it in the air. “Pollen! Power up!” she exclaimed, as her kwami opened her mouth widely to catch the food and gulp it down.

            “ _Crystal Pollen_!”

            “Crystal Pollen,” Chloe called her kwami by her new name, “ _Bug on_!” A flash of yellow light later, Ice Queen was standing in her place. She glanced at Nino, who nodded, before doing the same.

            “Wayzz! Power up!”

            The little turtle kwami opened his mouth and bit down the blue pumpkin seed. “ _Polar Wayzz_!”

            “Polar Wayzz! Shell on!” Nino called upon his transformation and, a second later, he had his cold-proof costume on. He took a deep breath and walked to the far ends of the Agreste gardens, before he took his shield off and threw it in the air. “ _Shell-ter_!” Immediately, a huge ball-like magnetic field began to expand, until it covered the whole mansion.

            When he turned back, his friends were standing right next to him. “You ready?” Ice Queen asked in a soft voice.

            Before he could provide her with an answer, however, Rena Rouge crashed into his arms and pulled on his hoodie to kiss him. It was long and sloppy, but neither of their superhero friends dared to put a term to it. “You promise me you will be okay,” she said, her voice shattering, as she refused to meet his eyes.

            Carapace had his hands on her waist and dragged her closer to him. He kissed her on her forehead. “I will be just fine,” he hummed against her skin. “You just focus on beating the crap outta Hawk Moth.” Rena nodded and a tear escaped her left eye, rolling freely on her cheek before Carapace caught it. “The second we get out of here,” he said, “you will see me get to my knees and begging you until you finally snap and accept to spend the rest of your days with me.” Rena finally looked at him with wide, astonished eyes and a very serious expression. Carapace grinned at her. “So, what’d you say, Césaire?”

            Rena Rouge just stood still for a couple of seconds with no idea how to react– Carapace had to make an inhuman effort to keep on smiling. “W-wait… huh– _what_?” Rena stuttered out, squeezing her boyfriend’s shoulders so hard it almost hurt him. “Are you serious? I-is this really happening?”

            Carapace nodded, smiling still. “I love you, Alya– I love _everything_ about you… I-I love seeing your face first thing in the morning– I love how passionate you are about your job and this whole superhero business. I love how kind you are and how sassy you can be… I’ve loved you forever and I’m asking you, right here, right now, to marry me. Will you?”

            Rena Rouge breathed deeply. “Oh, my God– I’m sh-shaking… A-am I c-crying? Wha–“ she whispered, and Carapace noted that she was indeed shaking. “D-did you plan this?”

            Carapace chuckled. “I mean… I _was_ planning on proposing to you for a month now, and I wanted to take you to elegant ass restaurant, suit up, and hide the ring in a glass of champagne– make it all classy like in the movies… but it kinda slipped out and I decided to roll with it…” Rena giggled at the thought. “So? Don’t leave me hanging, babe…”

            “Nino– _Of course_ , I will marry you!” Carapace’s face lighted up at that before he dove in and stole another kiss from his girlfriend.

            The latter couldn’t stop giggling and, as he finally let go of her, she turned over to her best friend and jumped into her arms, telling her the great news– the three other superheroes were quietly watching the scene this whole time, with Ladybug and Ice Queen, simply unable to bite down a beam.

            “You hear that, M’Lady?” Rena Rouge used Cat Noir’s nickname for Ladybug to address her, as she wrapped her arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “I’m getting _married_.”

            “I heard,” Ladybug chuckled. “I’m so happy for you guys! Congratulations!” she cheered, clapping her hands together.

            “I wonder what kind of bride I will be,” Rena speculated. “Probably the worst bridezilla you’ll ever get to meet– _Oh_ , you are so gonna die while helping me organize this wedding,” she laughed aloud, gently tapping on her best friend’s cheek, before Carapace took her by the hand and made her turn around to face him.

            “How about we discuss the specifics _after_ we beat Hawk Moth’s ass?”

            Rena Rouge nodded, looking down immediately. “Right– r-right… I’m sorry I got carried away…” She shook her head and peered up at Carapace, hooking her finger behind his neck and pulling him to her. “We’re getting _married_!” She kissed him. “Okay, okay… I’m good. I’m done– for now.”

            Carapace smirked at her before he let her go and winked at Ice Queen– the latter immediately made her way to him. “Venom!” she cried, lifting her hand up, and, as it came down again, it was replaced by a giant bee stinger. “Ready?” she asked him, and this time, Carapace could answer.

            “Yeah,” he sighed, and closed his eyes, as he let Ice Queen do her thing.

            Rena Rouge watched in horror as her boyfriend– fiancé– turned to ice right under her eyes, but had to turn away eventually. She hid her face in Ladybug’s neck and felt the latter comforting arms close around her.

            Cat Noir, who had chosen to remain silent the whole time– he didn’t think it was his place to say anything, really, was the first one to speak, after Carapace turned to ice. “Come on, the sooner we beat Hawk Moth, the sooner we can get him outta here.”

 

Adrien was born and has grown up in the Agreste mansion– to this day, he still lived in his childhood home. When he was just a toddler, barely a couple or three years old, he would run around and hide in the most bizarre places, as part of a game he liked to play with his older brother Felix. He knew every closet, cupboard, and drawer that were big enough to fit him, and every corner people had taken a habit to overlook.

            At a very young age, he had already mastered the art of hiding behind a curtain and hold still– he could stay immobile for hours and no one disappeared under a table better than him– he would sit behind the tablecloth and spy on his governess and tutor, who were actively looking for him all around the house, yelping nervously, terrified of facing his parents’ fury. In all honesty, Adrien’s classes bored him and he hated his Chinese teacher, so he did his best to escape his chores.

            At eight years old, Adrien Agreste was the best child-ninja this earth has ever known: he could sneak into the kitchens in broad daylight without being seen and steal a whole pint of chocolate ice cream that he would take up to Felix’s room to share with him. At night, he would stay up past bedtime, then, when he was sure everyone was asleep, he would tiptoe to the playroom and put the T.V. on to watch his favorite cartoons until he slumbered helplessly on the couch– he would always wake up in his bed the next morning, however.

            He had this old green blanket he would bring out everywhere with him. Sometimes, he would tie it around his neck and pretend to be a superhero, as he jumped on beds and sofas and danced on tables– one time, he even attempted to climb up his Father’s library, to his tutor’s biggest disarray– he ended falling and breaking his arm. It was stinky and dirty and his governess always begged him to wash it, but Adrien always refused and would throw horrible tantrums whenever she would try and take it from him. Its name was Billy and Adrien loved to spray it with one of his mother’s perfumes before going to sleep– until his father ultimately confiscated it from him and never gave it back.

            As Cat Noir guided Ladybug, Queen Bee and Rena Rouge into his house’s living room, he couldn’t help but recall all the times he had tossed himself between big chunks of wood in the fireplace during summer, and waited for someone to find him. Now, Adrien was too tall and too handsome to walk by unnoticed and could only dream about being invisible, but when he was chubbier and smaller, he would easily melt into the shadows and vanish for hours. Suddenly, he heard a woman’s cry and thought of his mother, but, as he turned around, he realized he was the only one who perceived anything and chose to ignore it.

            One day, and it still haunted his memory, Adrien decided to hide in the one place his governess would never dare to look for him: under his parents’ bedroom, and thus escape all his wearing afternoon classes. During lunch break that day, he managed to convince Felix to distract their tutor so that he could run upstairs. He took his tablet with him and some snacks– so he wouldn’t starve– wrapped himself in his lucky blanket and confidently walked into Emilie and Gabriel’s room.

            He stayed there almost all day, unbothered. At some time in the early evening– he must have been napping, because he remembered having been woken up by a door slamming. When he opened his eyes, he saw his parents’ feet walking around in an angry pace– his first instinct was to get out from under the bed and hug his mother, but then, his father started yelling very loudly and both of them began arguing violently.

            Adrien didn’t know what to do so he stayed silent and tried to breathe only when it was really necessary. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Gabriel raise a hand on his mother and he recalled having wanted to cry so badly then, even when he was able to get ahold of in the end and keep his presence a secret– he knew that if his father came to find out that he was there all along, then he was going to be severely punished.

            So he just sat quietly and watched, as his father called his mother names, accusing her of things he could not understand, impossible things Adrien was sure she was never capable of, while she cried and threw pillows at her husband, jewelry and plates– anything she could reach for, really.

            When Gabriel finally left, Emilie fell to her knees right next to the bed and cried some more, her head pressed into her hands and her whole body shaking– Adrien couldn’t just do nothing… so her crawled toward her and laid a gentle hand on her ankle, thinking that, as long as he stayed hidden, she wouldn’t be able to see or notice him. His mom would always rub soothing circles on his skin with her thumb when he was upset, and it never failed to make him feel better– he decided to give it a try. Little to say his logic was very flawed because Emilie ended up discovering his presence after all.

            “ _Adrien? W-what are you doing here, honey_?” he still remembered the trembling in her voice and the tears that drowned her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot with red and the green of her irises felt like it was slowly fading away. She looked scared and hurt and angry, and Adrien quickly came to the realization that he could do nothing to fix it.

            “ _I’m so sorry, Mommy_ ,” was all he was able to say back, before he just burst into tears and she took him in her arms, held him close to her chest until he stopped sobbing. Her heart always beat steadily. It was relaxing just listening to it.

            The last thing he recalled having seen that day, before she led him out of the room and to his own, were three torn up train tickets to Belgium laying on the bed covers.

            “Cat Noir, are you okay?” Ladybug’s voice snapped him back to the present. Her hand was on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, and her eyes were soft, looking at him worriedly. “Hey… w-what’s wrong?”

            “N-nothing,” he quickly replied. “I just thought I heard something.”

            “What did you hear?”

            Cat Noir hesitated, but then remembered he trusted and loved Ladybug more than anything else, and decided to tell her. “My mother’s voice,” he shook his head, “it’s probably just Hawk Moth playing tricks on us.”

            Ladybug looked sad. “Probably.” She didn’t add anything else after that, and they all moved toward Gabriel’s office, where all the noise was mainly coming from.

            No one knew exactly what to expect when they walked in– but no one was really expecting to see Gabriel Agreste in his supervillain gear, holding the end of his cane to a woman’s throat, and daring her to use the magic brooch she had in her hand. The woman was on the ground, looking lost and helpless, but she kept glaring at him, taking in his snake eyes and filthy smirk, and refusing to glance away.

            Cat Noir was the first one to react, as he launched himself over toward Hawk Moth and violently tackled him on the floor, hissing, while Ladybug hurried toward the woman to help her up. “Don’t you touch her!” he screamed at the supervillain’s face.

            Against all odds, Hawk Moth burst out laughing. “My, my… would you look at that. Looks like the tomcat came out to play…” Then, he stopped, and took a long look at Cat Noir– the latter’s heart skipped a beat when he thought his father may have finally figured him out. “What is this? Are those tears?” he asked, gesturing to salty drops that were glistening on his rival’s mask.

            “Shut _up_!” the latter shouted again and Hawk Moth just looked at him with a stunned look on his face. “ _Why_? Why did you have to do all of this? I _hate_ you! _I hate you_!”

            “ _Cat Noir_ ,” Ladybug’s voice echoed strongly inside his head, and he shut up instantly.

            Cat Noir was still holding his stick under his father’s chin when he ordered him to get up and Ladybug immediately replaced it with her yo-yo’s wire. “Hand over the Miraculous,” the former growled, but Hawk Moth didn’t move, he only smiled. “It’s over. Give it back,” he repeated, holding out his hand this time, and he looked like he was forcing himself to remain calm.

            “Come on, you kids have faced me before. Did you really think it would be this easy?” the supervillain replied as he kicked his cane off the floor and grabbed it before he hit Ladybug with it, strong enough to send her crashing into a wall. He hit Cat Noir in his legs to make him lose balance and, with a swift hand gesture, he disabled Queen Bee and Rena, who were moving to attack him. When he turned back to Cat Noir, he was smiling a horrible smile. “I cannot _believe_ my luck,” he said simply, before he opened his fist to free a dark-winged butterfly that flew right in the direction of the Black Cat Miraculous holder to melt with the collar bell of his costume.

            Cat Noir heard Ladybug’s strident scream and tried to push the akuma away. _Think of happy thoughts_ , he ordered himself, as the day Ladybug and he had defeated Strongarm and accessorily kissed for the first time popped into his head. He remembered their fighting and how nervous he was when he tried to convince her that he loved her– then how thrilled he was when she agreed to believe him. He remembered the way their mouths worked against each other, the way she had looked in the late evening light, the way she talked and yelled and whispered, how she smelled.

            He then thought of the night they had finally revealed themselves to each other– they were hanging out on Marinette’s balcony in the earliest hours of the day. They were talking, and laughing, and everything was perfect and, just as perfectly, everything clicked right into place, making of this scene, the most memorable moment of his life.

            He thought of their first real date as Adrien and Marinette, then of their first date as Cat Noir and Ladybug. He thought of wine and champagne, and chocolate dipped strawberries, he thought of laughter and good times, and his first night with his girlfriend.

            He thought about how she was legitimately the only thing that mattered to him, and the only thing, if any, that would be able to save him of his nightmare– Marinette was his lighthouse; she would guide him through the darkness and would rescue his soul, because Marinette was Ladybug, and Ladybug never lost.

            He thought about that very special smile she only gave him, and the way her eyes lighted up when she desired him. He thought of her lips when she laughed and her mouth when he kissed her. He thought about the very particular color of her eyes and about how she was the most beautiful human being he had ever had the privilege to meet.

            He thought about how he had strong intentions of marrying her someday and spending the rest of his life with her, having children with her, and how he wanted to raise them in the suburbs, where they could run around freely in abandoned green fields and breathe the unpolluted air of the countryside.

            He thought about her hands and her arms hugging him, and the way she breathed when she was asleep– she was so peaceful when she slept, he could never bring himself to wake her up, would just watch her, indefinitely, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

            He thought about how Marinette had looked like the hero right from the start. She was unbeatable, unbreakable, and Hawk Moth was a fool to even dream otherwise. He thought about how tonight, was the night they were all finally gonna win, because Ladybug had said so and he trusted her word blindly.

            Then, his mind wandered, and he found himself thinking about Carapace– about how he was just outside the Agreste manor, ensuring that Hawk Moth had zero way out, while risking his life for Paris, and making promises he wasn’t completely sure he would be able to keep.

            He thought about Felix– about the way he had treated him and, inevitably, he wondered if he would be able to make it after tonight, or what would happen if he never got to apologize to him.

            Slowly, the reassuring images of Marinette started to fade away, quickly replaced by a kaleidoscope of fear, and apprehension, and terror and rage.

            In the end, he thought about his mom. About how she had desperately tried, all these years, to steal him and Felix away from their father and run away somewhere he would never be able to found the three of them, but how she ended up escaping on her own, and how she was back now, and Gabriel was still trying to hurt her– he remembered the way the latter had hurt her in the past and got sick. And then, almost naturally, it was over.

            “ _Prince of Shadows_ ,” Hawk Moth’s voice screeched inside his head, as he felt something like a hand close over his shoulder. “Welcome.”

            Cat Noir had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, my... this getting WAY out of control...  
> One last chapter to go...  
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	23. Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, here we are! The last chapter of this fic- I really hope you'll enjoy it as much as the previous ones!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this fic and all of you who commented and left kudos- you have encouraged me to come this far and I am very grateful for it!
> 
> Don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments, what you liked or what, on the contrary, disappointed you- I especially enjoy reading them!
> 
> It's like the end of a journey- and I'm sad but also really happy this story is finally over X) And tell me if you would like to read any spin-off of it (I'm still not ready to say goodbye to my characters :P) I may write them! 
> 
> On that note, enjoy and thank you again for having made it this far and remaining with us till the end <3

 

“You know, I’ve never really been akumatized, before,” Cat Noir said but Ladybug only rolled her eyes at him. He was just thinking out loud, not caring for the slightest if she was listening to him. “I mean, sure…” he shrugged, “some villains were able to take over me once or twice– and that’s only because you’re too foolish and rash in your decisions to properly look after yourself, so, of course, you expect _me_ to do it and… let’s just say it’s ought to end badly… _but_ , let me tell you that… being akumatized? It doesn’t feel the same at all.”

            “Yeah?” she sighed– Cat Noir had passed his arms under hers and joined his hands behind her neck, blocking her movements and putting her in a very vulnerable position. She was kneeling on the ground now, too scared to even breathe properly, and he was holding her and talking to her ear like everything was normal– as if he couldn’t just kill her in one swift, nifty maneuver. “What _does_ it feel like, then?”

            Cat Noir snorted. “Well, for one, I can say other things than ‘give me your Miraculous or perish’… or any variations of that… I think that’s pretty good progress, don’t you?”

            “Uh… well, I’m uh… happy for you, I guess?”

            “As you should,” Cat Noir praised her. Ladybug couldn’t but stare at the floor and pray, and try not to annoy him into snapping her neck in half.

            She was also a little… confused– that was an appropriate word for it, yes. I mean, when an akuma would take over Cat Noir’s mind, she was always able to tell the ways it changed him– his voice was somewhat deeper and his eyes would change colors, become darker. There would be an odd, subtle twist to his face only she would recognize– he would speak in a way he usually didn’t and use words he would not normally use.

            He would be mean and insulting, and would try to hurt her in every way possible to get under her skin, until she couldn’t take it anymore and would just hand over her Miraculous (it’s never happened, but, surprisingly, the evil version of Cat Noir always had such high hopes).

            Now, Cat Noir was akumatized, and under Hawk Moth’s power… Ladybug just expected him to be a whole other person– but, oddly enough, Cat Noir seemed exactly the same– _lighter_ , maybe– less… restrained. More… carefree– as if Hawk Moth had just taken the world’s weight off his shoulders. He looked the same, though. He sounded like himself as well– Hawk Moth has sucked away all his pain and despair, and has allowed him to breathe– he saved him from the dangerous waters of his brain in exchange for his and Ladybug’s Miraculouses, and now, Cat Noir was ready to go to mad extents just to keep himself from freefalling and drowning again.

            “Also,” he carried on, and his breath against the back of her neck was warm and wonderful and sent two rays of crimson lightning bolts through her spine, before they went dancing along her muscles, electrifying her flesh, scorching her nerve endings and cracking her skin open. “I have new powers. Check _this_ out!” he exclaimed, before he _literally_ disappeared– Ladybug was able to catch herself before she tumbled face first on the floor when he so abruptly let go of her, but as Rena’s flute came crashing into her back, the fall was inevitable.

            “Oh, my God!” the latter squeaked, immediately rushing toward her friend to help her up. “I’m so sorry, I…”

            “S’Fine– I’m fine, I’m _okay_ …” Ladybug hissed, cutting her off, her hands on her sides, as she tried to rub the pain away. “Don’t worry about it,” she reassured Rena, looking around for any sign of Cat Noir. “Where’d he go?”

            “Boo!” Cat Noir slowly detached himself from the shadows on the wall, as easily as he earlier melted into them and vanished, and silently crept to Rena and Ladybug to scare them. They jumped in surprise and turned around, their weapons in hand, but he was just smiling widely, his eyes, half-closed. “Never left,” he said, shrugging, before he lifted his stick– it was different now that the superhero was akumatized, made like an expendable double bladed knife, each blade, sharper than a double edged sword– and engaged in a fight with Rena Rouge after hitting Ladybug in her knees.

            The former was growling and groaning, barely managing to stop Cat Noir’s hits with her flute– Rena was more used to work on the sides, create illusions and lead the akuma into a trap… she was like a catalyst, making Ladybug and Cat Noir’s victory easier. The essence of a fox was to be a trickster, so, when she trained with Master Fu, they always focused on her Miraculous’ abilities– she would push hers and Trixx’s limits and remain transformed even when she already used her powers– Fu also encouraged her to try and use her Mirage more than once, or use it to generate more than one illusion. Little to say that Rena was not exactly the greatest at fighting, and the best she could do was try and not to get hurt too seriously.

            “How can someone be that dumb to walk right into Hawk Moth’s lair and be akumatized right away?” she gasped, when Cat Noir’s blade only missed her by a few inches. “Couldn’t you have kept your emotions in check before jumping right into the devil’s own crib?”

            “I’m sorry, have you ever been akumatized, Rena Rouge?” Cat Noir replied. He looked like he was having the time of his life, while Rena was holding on to her flute with both hands, eyes wide open and legs shaking, dreading the moment when her body would just give up– she had never faced Cat Noir in a single fight before– it was _terrifying_.

            “Yeah, _twice_! I know how it feels– You could’ve said _no_!” she knew he couldn’t– she was still trying to make him feel guilty– maybe it would help him back to reason– but akumas didn’t feel guilt– she should know that– She just had to give it a try.

            “Oh, well… who’s the dummy now, _huh_?” he snickered, as he passed a leg under her feet to throw her off balance– she fell on the floor, hard, but was quick to pull herself back up, just in time to stop one deadly blow.

            When he was a teenager, Cat Noir was skinny and awkward looking– he was way too tall and didn’t have any muscles. He was late to go into puberty and didn’t lose his baby fat until he was nineteen. Now, Cat Noir was _ripped_. His quadriceps made the leather of his costume bend. He had broad shoulders and biceps for days. His back muscles were nicely highlighted by his skintight superhero suit and his butt was so round and perfect, it made every girl in Paris want to squeeze it. His face was all kinds of flawless too, chiseled like a diamond, with a square jaw and high cheekbones… Sometimes, Rena would just wish he was gay so she wouldn’t feel so bad dreaming about him at night– but oh, well. Carapace was more than handsome too, tall and strong, and gorgeous in ways Cat Noir wasn’t. The latter and Ladybug paired up nice, she thought. Marinette was very pretty too– built like a freaking Amazon with all the muscles and the boobs…

            “Argh!” Rena screamed, as Cat Noir’s blade sliced her cheek open, snapping her out of her reverie. She jumped back then jumped on Gabriel’s working table, pressing her hand against her injury and tarnishing the beautiful white gloves of her costume with hideous stains of blood, as she waved her flute awkwardly before her, trying to stop her opponent’s clever strokes.

            “Wow!” he remarked, his eyes, wide open. “That’s a real clean cut!” he complimented himself and Rena only hissed at him. He shrugged it off. “I hope it won’t leave a scar, though.”

            “You’d better!” Rena yelled over the sounds of their weapons clanking against each other. “If it so much leaves as a shadow of a _scratch_ , I will _end_ you, Cat Noir! _Mark._ My. Words.”

            Cat Noir smirked and was about to say something back, when he was caught in Ladybug’s yo-yo and dragged to her. “Oh, my Lady,” he whistled, resting his head against her shoulder, “I didn’t know you were so much into bondage!” he giggled. “But how would I have even guessed, anyway? After all, it’s _knot_ for everyone. Get it? Because ‘knot’ and ‘not.’” He laughed at his own joke. “You know, I’m oddly turned on by that… we should try it, sometime.”

            A deep, exhausted sigh escaped Ladybug’s lips as she pushed him off her and back to his feet and turned him around to face her. “Are you almost done?” she let out in frustration as she began to undo her yo-yo’s wire just slightly enough to free his collar bell and snap the akuma away from him, when he managed to free one of his arms to grasp at her wrist.

            “Well, I _was_ gonna tell a joke about jump ropes…” he admitted, smiling craftily, as he gently moved his grip to her hand and bowed down to kiss her knuckles, “but then, I thought about it and decided to _skip_ it,” he winked at her, before he turned into a shadow again and dissolved into thin air.

            “Ugh! Seriously! _Again_?!” Rena whined out loud as she jumped off the table and made her way to Ladybug. “We can’t keep fighting him in here, Mar– We’re losing time, and Bee _needs_ our help… whatever she says, she _can’t_ take Hawk Moth on her own… you know that…” she said, looking sad, as she turned toward the set of stairs the moth-themed supervillain had prior escaped through, after he just pressed an invisible button on the wall and opened a hidden door in his floor, making them emerge almost magically from the ground. “We need to go down there– one of us, at least. I’ll go,” she suddenly decided and Ladybug’s eyes bulged in surprise. “Come on, Mar… Look at _me_!” she complained, gesturing to her bloody face. “I can’t fight him. You’re his best match. Only you can win against him–“

            “You don’t understand, his powers have been amplified by like a _thousand_ percent! I don’t even know if I can–“

            “Bullshit,” Rena immediately interrupted her. “You _can_ , and you _will_ , because you’re freaking Lady– Hey, hold up… Where’d that crazy blond chick run off to?” she wondered aloud, looking around, only to find a very empty fashionista office completely turned upside down. “And where the fuck is your bloody soon-to-be-dead boyfriend?”

 

When Queen Bee followed Hawk Moth down the stairs, she stumbled into a very cold room with walls made of tainted glass and windows shaped like butterfly wings. She almost laughed at Hawk Moth’s egocentrism, but took out her spinning-top instead and began swinging it around, building herself a very sharp yellow shield.

            “Hiding underground like a rat, I see,” she called him out, but the place was vacant and her voice echoed on the walls and the ceiling. “You can’t flee, you know. We’ve trapped you in here,” she carried on, taking careful steps toward the center. “You won’t get away this time– We thought everything through. We’re not just kids you can easily beat anymore… we’ve been training these past few years. I can even kill a man with my thumb.”

            “I’m curious as to how you tested out this technique,” a somber voice spoke behind her and she turned around just in time to catch Hawk Moth’s blade in her spinning-top wire.

            “Oh, I can show you if you like,” she suggested, as she tugged on her weapon to try and disarm him, but the supervillain held on to his with such ferocity, she was barely able to get her spinning-top back.

            “Will you really be able to live with a dead man’s life on your conscience?” he shot back, lifting his cane above his head, but Bee quickly whipped him on his wrist to make him let go of it– it fell soundlessly on the ground and made Hawk Moth even angrier.

            “You call yourself a _man_?” Bee snorted, wrapping her spinning-top around his leg to make him fall. “You are a coward that hides in the mud and bewitch innocent minds to make them do his dirty deeds,” the words spilled out of her mouth like poison and, as Hawk Moth tried to reach for his cane, she just stepped on his arm, twisting his elbow in a horrible angle that made him scream. “Do you know who I _am_?” she yelled to his face, her eyes shining with unshed tears and rage. “Do you know what you _did_ to me?”

            Hawk Moth’s whole body was trembling because of the pain and Bee relished this look on him. He gasped when she moved her foot away, freeing his broken limb, before she crouched over him to take a full look at his being.

            “When you give birth to your precious little akumas… do you ever stop and think for a second what consequences will their wrath have on the city? I mean, sure, the Arch of Triumph gets destroyed, and the Eiffel Tower is sliced in half, but no worries– because Ladybug’s magic is gonna fix everything!” she chuckled, but her laugh was empty and the expression on her face was petrifying. “You turned my father into Malediktator and as a result, he used his powers to try and overthrow our Republic in favor of installing a monarchy. Little to say that the president did _not_ take it so well.” She paused to take a deep breath. When Hawk Moth tried to sit up, she violently punched him in the nose, drawing blood all over his iron mask, and pushed him back down. “I’m not finished,” she said. “My father never wanted to rule over France… _You_ implanted this… i _-idea_ in his mind and proceeded to _destroy_ his reputation. Do you know where he is now?” she shouted, her cheeks, burning red, and Hawk Moth was glancing around nervously, trying to get out of her grip. “He lives alone in a slum at Saint-Blaise and works as a school janitor _somewhere_ a-and he doesn’t even let me _visit_ because he’s _that_ ashamed of his current situation!”

            Bee’s voice was loud and she had been waiting so long for this moment, it was hard for her to contain her eagerness.

            I mean, Hawk Moth was older, sure. He was probably smarter, too. He was also bigger and stronger than she was, and possibly knew more things about how to exploit the powers of his Miraculous– he knew how to enslave a kwami and control their magic to use it at his advantage, for God’s sake. He had had years to study and understand it, to experiment on it– Queen Bee was only chosen by mistake something like five years ago and has only been training seriously for less than half of that. She only had access to her special hairpin during her weekly meetings with Master Fu– and those just consisted of barely a couple hours where she would first train _without_ her suit, and would only put it on when Fu deemed it right– or when Ladybug called her into battle.

            Objectively, Queen Bee, alone, had no chances against Hawk Moth– but, against all odds, _he_ was the one on the ground now, coughing up blood, and she had the advantage. Hawk Moth overestimated his own capacities and was tired– he constantly exhausted his kwami and himself by staying transformed so long after he drained all the mystical energy of his Miraculous. Besides, it’s not like he knew how to fight, anyway– he never got out in public and the only time her friends and she faced him, he seemed weakened and they were able to corner him after a couple of heavy strokes. So, maybe the chances weren’t exactly in her favor, but Queen Bee knew that she was angry and feisty enough to beat him and her desire for revenge was all she needed to be able to do it.

            Fu always told her that revenge was for weak people– that if she wanted to be strong, she needed to forgive, and do what was right. Smart people ignored those who’d wronged them and moved on. But how could a person, who hurt as bad as she was, even _think_ with a straight mind? Bee had ice in her veins, blood in her eyes, so much hate in her heart, and revenge was but a confession of pain. She needed it, she held on to it. The only dream she had had these past few years was to turn the knife that disfigured her into a gun she would point right into Hawk Moth’s head.

            She snorted and got to her feet to put some distance between them, before she kicked him in his side, drawing a yell out of him. “You want to know what happened to my mother, after that? After they _divorced_? She had to choose between the _Grand Paris_ and her magazine, and I begged her to keep the hotel because I wasn’t ready to see all of my father’s pains and labors go down the gutter. So she sold her company and became the head manager of the _Grand Paris_. She will never admit to it, of course, but I know she hates it. She hates everything about how her life turned out after the… _incident_. She hates the hotel, she hates being separated from my father, and she’s slowly growing into hating _me_. Audrey Bourgeois _made_ you, and you shattered her entire _life_!” she exclaimed, almost out of breath. “You _destroyed_ my family… and now? I _am_ going to kill you. I don’t care about the consequences,” she spat, as she wrapped her spinning-top around his neck and began to pull. “Ah-ah! Don’t _move_ … Venom!” she called upon her powers, but just when she was about to stab him with her stinger, a hand moved out of the shadows and grabbed her arm making her spear herself instead.

            When a bee– a real bee that is– stung someone or something, it died roughly seventy seconds later. That was part of the reason why Queen Bee de-transformed seventy seconds after using her Venom, instead of having a dozen minutes to spare like the others. Her Miraculous would start beeping the second her stinger would so much as touch her target and she would just have enough time to find a safe corner, not too far from the battleground, to drop the suit. Using the Venom exhausted Pollen, even if the latter never admitted to it, and Bee had to wait several minutes for her to wake up from her little pass-out before she could feed her and transform again.

            This time, however, Bee didn’t get to de-transform because the Venom was in _her_ veins, shutting everything down, and stopping even the magic essence of her jewel. Her hairpin was beeping urgently and continuously, and she could do nothing– couldn’t even blink.

            She felt something push her off Hawk Moth before she fell in the dirt, face first. She couldn’t breathe until they had the decency to turn her around. She couldn’t move her eyes, so she waited until Cat Noir’s face came into focus, right next to Hawk Moth’s.

            “I can see you haven’t been training enough,” the latter remarked, a horrible, toothy smile on his face, before he glanced at his newest akuma. “Would you do us the honors?” he asked.

            Cat Noir’s grin was nasty, as he called on his Cataclysm and turned Bee’s Miraculous to ashes.

            Inside her head, Chloe Bourgeois screamed Pollen’s name, but on the outside, she just de-transformed, almost naturally, as a single tear escaped her eye. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move a single muscle– the only reason her heart was still beating was because Miraculouses’s powers, when they were not tainted with dark magic, cannot be used to kill people.

            “Your father was a con and a liar. He disappointed the people of Paris year after year– he was the worst mayor we ever got and a failed politician. No one regrets him; no one cares what happened to him, but… I _am_ going to bring him back to where he was, so you don’t need to hate me all that much anymore.” He paused. “I am well aware of everything I took from the Parisian people, but I fully intend on giving it all back, I can promise you that. I’m not the bad guy, here, Miss Bourgeois. I just set myself a goal, and am doing everything in my power to achieve it.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he eyed her from head to toes. “You can’t move,” he remarked, “but the Venom will wear off soon enough. I’m gonna get you out of the way– put you somewhere you can enjoy the show.”

            As he said the words, Chloe felt Cat Noir’s arms close around her and he dragged her away from the middle of the room to sit her up against a wall. Tears were still flowing on her cheeks without her being able to cry them properly, and her brain was still hauling, as her gaze found the little pile of ash that was now her Miraculous.

            Her legs were stretched before her, and she was unable to move them– her arms rested lazily at her sides, her hands slowly freezing against the cold ground. Her only consolation was that she was able to break Hawk Moth’s arm and possibly his nose too, and she just hoped Ladybug or Rena Rouge would be able to use this at their advantage.

            “Now, what?” Cat Noir asked Hawk Moth.

            The lather shrugged– and regretted instantly, wincing in pain as he grasped his broken arm. “We wait for them to come down.”

            “Should I make myself scarce?”

            Hawk Moth didn’t even look his way. “Remember to stay close by.”

 

***

 

Emilie held her breath and covered her mouth with one hand, as she let her back slid down the wall and hid behind the staircase. She was freezing, and her heart was beating very fast– and she just wanted to wake up now, because there was no way this was not a nightmare, a horrible, terrible nightmare, and she _had_ to wake up.

            “ _Shit_ ,” she swore in a whisper, her whole body shaking. “Shit, fucking _shit_. Damn _it_!”

            She was hugging the _Miraculous Scrolls of Mystical Transformations_ that she had just stolen from her ex-husband safe against her chest, refusing to let go of it, and watched, as the latter just destroyed that poor girl’s Miraculous.

            “I cannot believe this… Duusu! I _cannot_ believe this! This is _bad_ – this is worse than _anything_ I’ve imagined. He’s a _mad man_. I cannot top that. He has the cataclysm of the Black Cat on his side– He’s already won. It’s just impossible! There’s no way, I…” she started rambling to herself before the blue peacock-shaped kwami gently pressed her paws against her lips to make her stop talking– she shut up instantly.

            “Hawk Moth may have the Black Cat, but _you_ … you have the Ladybug,” Duusu encouraged her. “ _Use_ her.”

            “Use her?”

            “They say that the Ladybug is the Black Cat’s best match because their powers counterbalance each other– this is why neither can win when they are opposed by the other. The Ladybug and the Black Cat cannot really fight each other; they must always fight on the same side,” Duusu said, uncharacteristically calm– Emilie was used to her kwami’s daily emotional breakdowns and her mania moments, and even though Duusu did know a lot about kwami history– the peafowl always loved to brag about how she was among the first kwamis that were ever made, that she was even older than Tikki and Plagg– her holder was never able to associate her with wisdom or a prudent personality.  

            Duusu talked openly about kwamis’ History and the Guardians Temples in Tibet, and has repeatedly attempted to decipher the Guardians’ tongue and crack the code of the _Scrolls_ (in vain.) She enjoyed it when people sat around her and listened to her talking, and telling them about her many extraordinary adventures– she treasured all kind of attention she’d get. This was beside one of the reasons why she loved meeting new people– she relished the looks of admiration and wonder she would receive– it made her feel like a floating miracle.

            “Are you even listening to me?”

            Emilie was a little surprised by this sudden change of temperament, but she preferred not to mention anything– she couldn’t have Duusu freaking out on her right now. With a twinge, Emilie instantly realized how much she missed her kwami. With the latter around, she always had someone to talk to– always had someone to advise her, and someone she would share her journeys with, as they laughed, joked and cried together. She missed Nooroo, too, she thought, as she glanced over at the dark silhouette of Hawk Moth, standing idly in the middle of his panic room. She never officially introduced her kwamis to Gabriel–

            She never intended to share this secret with him– She also never intended to marry him and bear his children, and she never knew how she ended up in a little chapel outside of town, reciting her vows and signing up to be that man’s wife, but look at her now. When Gabriel and her were still living together, Duusu and Nooroo would always hide when he would walk into their shared bedroom– they would fly away and play with little Felix and baby Adrien, who were too young to remember them and too naïve to be taken seriously if they ever happened to mention their tiny colored flying friends.

            Emilie sighed at the memory. Felix hated her now– Adrien, too, most probably. She shook her head, pushing the thought away, and turned to face her kwami. “Y-yeah… I-I’m listening…”

            Duusu crooked an eyebrow at her, but pursued nonetheless. “You don’t walk right into war and try to salve the damage right away, do you? You win _first_ and deal with the losses, _later_ – You fight fire with fire until you build a big enough fire, it would burn down your enemies, and _then_ you use water and save whatever can be saved.”

            “But what if _I_ get burned?” Emilie wondered.

            “Good thing your suit is fireproof,” Duusu winked at her. “The Peacock and the Moth have very similar powers, and this is why only _you_ can defeat him. Hawk Moth used the Black Cat to build his monster, so to beat him, I say use the Ladybug and build an even bigger monster.”

            “She’s right,” a woman’s voice spoke in the obscurity, and Emilie got to her feet immediately, lifting the _Scrolls_ above her head as a weapon, before she saw the face of Ladybug walk out of the shadows, closely followed by that of Rena Rouge, the Fox Miraculous holder. She tried and relaxed. “The only way I can beat Cat Noir is if I become as powerful as him.”

            “You don’t even know what you’re saying,” Emilie chuckled emptily. “If anything, the Peacock’s powers are worse than those of the Moth. They leave deeper scars.”

            “I know. I’ve already seen it in action,” was Ladybug’s only answer. “I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

            “W-wait… what kind of sacrifice are we talking about, here?” Rena worried, immediately reaching for her best friend’s shoulder.

            “Well, Natalie Sancoeur used the Peacock’s powers to help out Hawk Moth in one decisive battle some years ago.” It was Duusu who spoke, deeming she was best placed to answer. “She used his despair and built a protector, and that, inevitably, led Gabriel to believe that she was his protector, and that he needed her to go on in life– He thought he had to hold on to her, or he would never achieve anything, because he was convinced she would make things easier for him. He confused these emotions with love, and it conflicted with the love he had for you, Emilie,” Duusu turned her true owner’s way and gazed at her with soft brown eyes. “Ergo his necessity and obsession to go back to the way things _were_. _That_ was definitely _not_ the way all of this started.” The peacock kwami flipped around to face Ladybug. “I have no idea what it will do to you, Miss Ladybug, but, and I am being completely honest with you when I say that, I don’t see any other way you can win this.”

            “We always manage to get ourselves out of desperate situations, I’m sure this won’t be different,” Rena intervened, wrapping her arms around herself.

            “We’re already three down, Rena,” Ladybug’s voice was shaking, and one could see how uncomfortable she felt standing up to her best friend. “We need to have a plan B, at least. I’ll be it.”

            “Mar–“ Rena started, shaking her head, but was quickly interrupted by Ladybug.

            “I wasn’t asking. Look,” Ladybug sighed, “I know you’re scared, but this is something I need to do. If by some miracle Hawk Moth gets away a-and I didn’t do _everything_ I could’ve done to stop him, I mean… this is just gonna haunt me forever.”

            There was a moment of silence, where Ladybug and Rena Rouge just looked at each other, exchanging quiet glances only they understood, and during which Emilie and Duusu decided to stay back and not talk, before Rena finally gave in, and agreed to go on with the blue kwami’s terrifying plan. “But only as a last resort, you hear me?” was her only condition.

            Ladybug and Rena then instructed Emilie to stay hidden, making her their secret weapon, as they walked out from under the staircase and toward the middle of the room, where Hawk Moth was patiently waiting for them, standing right on the spot where all the lines of the giant rosette on the floor converged.

            “How do we know we can trust her?” Rena asked Ladybug in a very low voice.

            “We don’t,” the latter answered simply.

            “Cool, right– Well, that’s just perfect.” Rena let out a deep sigh, as she readied her flute in both her hands and held it toward Hawk Moth’s somber figure. “We’re completely insane, aren’t we? I mean that must be the reason why Fu chose us, right?”

            Ladybug unhooked her yo-yo from her waist and began to swing it around. “Totally. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever. That’s what he was sniffing for– the secret ingredient to build up stupid superheroes.”

            “Awesome. That’s just awesome. I’ll take broken Hawk Moth over there– I may have a chance at disarming him if you keep the kitty cat distracted.”

            Ladybug nodded. “Don’t die. I still need you.”

            “I’ll try,” Rena chuckled, before she ran toward Hawk Moth’s shadow, screaming, and hit it with her flute– or tried to, at least, because her weapon just went through it.

            “Oh, please don’t tell me you really thought this was me…” the supervillain’s voice spoke from behind a column, as Hawk Moth slowly made his way into the light, mocking one very confused Rena Rouge. “The Prince of Shadows doesn’t only turn into shadows– he can also control them,” he explained, before the silhouette of Hawk Moth changed into that of Cat Noir and just melted into the ground, blending itself with the other shadows. A couple of seconds later, the very tangible version of Cat Noir appeared in front of Ladybug, but Rena didn’t even have the time to think it through, as Hawk Moth brandished his sword toward her and challenged her. “I thought I heard you wanted to fight me,” he said in a big voice to try and scare her, but Rena gave her first hit.

            “I wanted to have the honor to look into your eyes while you admit defeat,” she spat.

            “Well, that was your first mistake. Just look at what happened to your friend.”

            “You’re _so_ gonna pay for that!”

            Ladybug tried not to sprint off toward Rena Rouge to help her bring Hawk Moth down or think about the very disturbing image of Chloe Bourgeois just lying there like a Barbie doll as she crossed swords with Cat Noir– she forced herself to concentrate her whole attention on him– she dodged all his attacks, and hit, kicked, and skillfully drew on her yo-yo in several attempts to disarm him– but she was still surprised when he used his newly acquired powers to disappear and reappear behind her.

            “Hey, gorgeous, how’s it going?” he chuckled in her ear, making her cringe instantly. She spun around almost violently and once again tried to catch him in her wire, but he was faster and jumped back, and she missed him by barely a couple inches. “Has anyone ever told you how _good_ you look in red?”

            “Has anyone ever told you to shut the fuck up?” she shot back, pink-cheeked.

            He clicked his tongue and dodged another blow, before he managed to redirect her yo-yo’s shadow to wrap around her legs and make her fall. He saw her struggle for a bit and laughed lively, before he crawled over to her to lie on top of her– she was certain her heart stopped beating then. “Am I distracting you?” he purred– Their bodies weren’t technically touching, because, apparently, even the evil version of Cat Noir was a gentleman. “Well, who could blame you? I can be… _very_ distracting,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her, as he gently nosed her cheek, before she kneed him in his crotch, getting him off her. She couldn’t help a satisfied smirk when she saw his face turn red, as he shoved a fist against his mouth to keep himself from shouting. “That was a very low blow, M’Lady,” he managed to choke out, as she took her time to untie her yo-yo wire around her ankles and got up. “Totally worth it, though,” he winked at her, finally standing up himself.

            “Are you even taking this seriously?” Ladybug reprimanded him, readying her yo-yo and eyeing him suspiciously.

            “Do I ever?” he giggled, juggling his weapon in between his fingers, before he attacked her again.

            He missed and she stroke back, but with Cat Noir’s new found ability to turn himself intangible at will, she only found it the more difficult to hit her target. “Ugh!” she let out in frustration when he disappeared again to reappear behind her. “Just wake up, already!” she mumbled under her breath. “Give me that!” she ordered him, as she tried to reach for his now violet-black collar bell.

            “Oops, sorry sweetheart. No can do,” he apologized, with the most horrible fake-smile Ladybug had ever seen, as he caught her wrist, twisted it, and held both her hands behind her back– he wasn’t hurting her, Ladybug was relieved to realize, but he still was grasping her arms tightly enough so she couldn’t move. “You know what we should do?”

            “What?” she grumbled, as she tried to wiggle her way out of his grip.

            “We should totally get married.”

            At those words, Ladybug froze. “W-what? H-how are you even thinking about this, right now?”

            He just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it my whole life!” he shamelessly admitted. “We get married, then we run away to live on a deserted island where we’ll live off fruits and coconut milk alone and spend the rest of our days tanning on a beach. And, as a bonus, of course, and since we’re on a deserted island and there’s no one around, we’d get to be naked all the time. How awesome would that be?”

            “Why are you doing this?” Ladybug sighed.

            If Cat Noir was miffed by what she said, he didn’t show it. “I’m done hurting, M’Lady. I am done with letting people walk all over me and I’m done begging for my fucked-up abnormal family’s affections– I’m done with my dad, and I’m done with Felix. I’m tired of listening to _All By Myself_ on repeat. I want to run away– I want to be free. And I would like it for you to come with me.”

            Ladybug swallowed audibly and tried to think carefully about what she would say next. “You never told me you felt that way.”

            “I didn’t want you to know,” he replied honestly. “Besides, it’s not like you would’ve understood, anyway.”

            “I could’ve tried.” She shrugged.

            He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want your opinions of me to change. No one likes a whiner– But I don’t care anymore,” he chuckled. “Who would’ve thought, huh? That being akumatized would be so… rejuvenating?” Ladybug stayed silent. “You wanna see something really cool?” he whispered in her ear, as he spun her around to make her face Rena and Hawk Moth’s little duel– Rena was struggling a bit, she seemed a little breathless, and even though her combat skills were surely worse than his, Hawk Moth still appeared to have immense trouble defeating her– he was in pain– he seemed drained because of the two very powerful akumas he’d just created in a row and he looked like he was about to give up. “Look,” Cat Noir directed Ladybug’s attention toward his shadow on the ground that began moving on its own, before it went away, running toward those of Rena and Hawk Moth.

            Ladybug’s whole body stiffened. “W-what are you doing?” she managed to stutter out.

            “Wait and see,” was Cat Noir’s only answer, and Ladybug watched, helpless, as Cat Noir’s shadow unbalanced Rena Rouge’s, making the latter fall as well. “I’m the Prince of Shadows– I can control all shadows. That means I can control anything.” He grinned darkly. “I’ve already used my cataclysm, but my shadow hasn’t... _Look_.”

            Cat Noir forced her to keep her eyes on Rena Rouge, as her flute was taken off her hands without her understanding why or how, before his shadow called upon its Miraculous powers and destroyed the superhero’s weapon, turning it to rusted iron and breaking it in half. Hawk Moth took the opportunity and snatched Rena’s necklace away from her, before he just threw it somewhere around the room and watched her de-transform. Alya was in tears when she finally snapped back to reality– everything occurred so fast, she had needed some time to process what just happened.

            “ _Alya_!” Ladybug screamed at her. “Get out of here!”

            But Alya refused to budge and pulled on Hawk Moth’s cape to make him fall. She reached for his sword, yanking it off his grip, and placed it right under his chin, right where his iron mask didn’t protect him– her little moment of victory didn’t last, however, because she was pushed away by Cat Noir’s shadow a second time, giving Hawk Moth the advantage once again.

            As if she was suddenly stirred by some sort of supernatural force, Ladybug suddenly broke out of Cat Noir’s hold, startling him so much his shadow instantly returned to him, and threw her yo-yo in Hawk Moth’s direction, wrapping it around him and blocking his every movement, then lifting him up and propelling him against a wall. She tried not to enjoy too much the sight of him sliding down the glass, excruciatingly slowly, and raced to Alya to help her up.

            “You need to get out,” she told her very seriously. “You can’t stay here. Not like that,” she was shaking her head vigorously, ready to refute any argument Alya would throw at her to stay. “I’ll find your necklace– I-I’ll fix everything, b-but you need to go… _now_!”

            “Are you _insane_? I’m not leaving you!”

            “Rena Rouge, it’s an order,” Ladybug talked in her leader voice and Alya slightly jerked back, a little bewildered by her best friend’s sudden change of tone. She glanced back at where she had left Cat Noir, and realized with a wince that he was gone– she immediately scanned the room for any sign of him, but he had vaporized again. Hawk Moth was still on the ground, however, almost whizzing in pain, and she couldn’t ignore the good news. Ladybug tightened her grasp around her yo-yo, sighed, and finally tossed it into the air. “ _Lucky charm_!” she called toward the ceiling, and was given a huge red and black fur blanket that she just stared at, blankly, and with no idea what to do with it.

            “I-I know your stratagems always seem extremely far-fetched but… what the hell are you supposed to do with that?” Alya wondered, while Ladybug was actively searching for any clues in her surroundings.

            “Come on, don’t you know anyone who may be in need of a blanket?” Cat Noir’s voice echoed in the room, before he spontaneously appeared in between the two of them. “I mean, it’s pretty cold in here. You can still give it to _me_ …” He just shrugged, reaching for Ladybug’s blanket, but she just slapped his hand away, making him snicker, before her eyes almost budged out of her head when she was hit with the realization.

            She immediately shoved the blanket in Alya’s hands. “Alya!” she pressed her. “Alya, _Nino_!”

            It was all she had to say for her friend to understand, and Alya didn’t lose a second before she sprinted toward the stairs and got out, waving her arms around in a very panicked way. Cat Noir was about to run after her, but Ladybug caught his tail, and kept him from following her. “Not so fast, kitten!”

            Cat Noir rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “What, now?”

            “You can’t fight her– she’s not transformed,” Ladybug replied as if it couldn’t be more obvious.

            “That’s kind of superhero-ist, don’t you think?” he said. “What? I’m an akuma, now… do you seriously expect me to be righteous?” Ladybug pouted. “Fine,” he complied, and by some sort of miracle, got her to let go of his tail. As he straightened up, he quickly reached for his weapon he’d stretched to his back, and split it half, before he spun around and crossed both portions of his akumatized pole under Ladybug’s chin– as she stepped back, she realized he had her cornered. “Why don’t give me your Miraculous, and save us some time?”

            Ladybug glanced down, and shook her head. “You’ll have to take them from me.”

            Cat Noir emitted something that resembled a growl. “Come on, already! We’ve _won_. It’s _over_! You’re all alone, Ladybug. Just give _up_!” he snarled angrily, getting dangerously closer to her, and Ladybug had to lay her back on the wall completely, and lift her head as high as she could, to avoid having her throat cut out.

            “I won’t.” They were simple, modest words, but strong enough to make Cat Noir’s entire body shake. “You want my earrings? _Take them_ ,” she dared him. Cat Noir’s leather ears went flat across his head and he frowned at her. When he didn’t say anything, Ladybug let herself relax. “I-I’m sorry…” she breathed out. “About the labyrinth incident.”

            Cat Noir didn’t answer right away– he still had a purple line around his neck where Ladybug had tried to strangle him. He shrugged. “It’ll heal.”

            “I’m also sorry I didn’t see how much you were hurting.”

            He shook his head. “I lie easily. I’m pretty good at it, to be honest– Not that I’m really proud of it. There was no way you could have known.”

            Ladybug smiled, but there was still sadness in her voice when she said, “Give me your akuma, Cat Noir. _Please_.”

            He frowned at her and pushed the blades against her skin. “ _Take it_ ,” he spat, challenging her. He was angry, she tried to ignore it.

            “Put down the knives.”

            “I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna fight for it,” he reminded her, an ugly smile on his face, and she knew she would’ve probably managed to talk her way out of his grasp, if Hawk Moth hadn’t intervened and shouted new orders inside Cat Noir’s head.

            These were so loud, the latter just fell on his knees, dropping his weapons, and pressed his hands into his ears. When Ladybug glanced at Hawk Moth, there was horror on her face– the supervillain was sitting on the floor, his cane rolling away from him and he didn’t even move to try and catch it, his back against the wall, and one could see that he was having a lot of trouble breathing through his mask. He was frowning, looking right at Cat Noir, and Ladybug knew instantly he was the one tearing her boyfriend’s brain apart–

            When Hawk Moth built his akumas, he created a sort of mental connection that linked him to them, and allowed him to take full control of their mind and actions. Sometimes, as Ladybug had many times seen in the past, he would use it to torture them suchlike, when they were taking too much time retrieving the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, wasting their powers instead on trivial things that would just pump down his energy– Ladybug realized with panic that was exactly what he was doing to Cat Noir right now.

            “ _What are you doing to him_?” Ladybug yelled at Hawk Moth’s lying figure. “STOP!”

            “Give me your earrings, and I’ll think about it,” the supervillain replied, cackling.

            When Ladybug didn’t move, Hawk Moth tightened his grip on Cat Noir’s brain, making his screams double. “F-Fine!” she cried, getting at her boyfriend’s level and taking him into her arms, unable to help herself. “I said _fine_. Now, _stop_ it.” She let out a shattering sigh. “ _Please_ , stop it!”

            Hawk Moth smirked at her, nodded, and, magically, Cat Noir’s screams ceased– his eyes were still closed, as he processed the pain, and Ladybug let go of him, and walked toward the supervillain. He lifted his hand in her direction, palm up, quietly ordering her to hold up her part of their little deal. “Come on, now, don’t be shy…” Hawk Moth chuckled.

            Ladybug reached for her earrings and glanced toward the set of stairs, where she had earlier left Emilie. “You think because I’m a superhero, and I always do the right thing, then I can’t lie?” she mocked him, smiling craftily. “Now!” she shouted at no one. “I’m ready,” she said and, at those words, a blue figure emerged from the darkness.

            Hawk Moth seemed surprised when, despite the mask she was wearing, he was still able to recognize his ex-wife in her new attire– her deep blue long-sleeved formfitting gown flowed around her, as her cape made of peacock feathers swept the floor behind her. She was magnificent– white and pink pearls were shining on the tips of her eyelids and her lips glistened with liquid gold. Her hair was purple now, tied up in a very complex braided bun, trimmed with diamonds and gleaming jewelry. Her skin was tainted with green and blue, and scattered with silvery glitter and giant glossy rhinestones. When she smiled at him, her teeth were sharp, like a monster’s, but she hid it behind her hand fan. “Hey, Gaby,” she purred, smiling at him, and he would’ve certainly found something to say, if only he could speak. “ _Ragazza Mistica_ ,” she introduced herself, bowing elegantly. “Or just… _Mystique_.”

            Hawk Moth didn’t reply and watched as Mystique turned Ladybug’s way and tore off one of her cape’s feathers before she handed it to the spotted superheroine. The latter nodded and took it, directing it toward her yo-yo, and it simply melted into the weapon.

            Immediately, her earrings began to beep furiously. “Ladybug, you’re up against your most evil nightmares and you’re plagued with doubts and anticipation. Let me help you– I take all your angst, your qualms and your worries, I take your deepest fears and your rage, and I build a _warrior_ ,” Mystique announced and, as soon as her words were pronounced, Ladybug just dropped to her knees, looking extremely weakened all of a sudden, while a giant shadow appeared on the wall behind her, reflecting the glorious white dragon that had just materialized in the air, flipping its wings majestically, before it landed on the ground.

            Hawk Moth blinked twice at the imperial creature, completely in awe, before he snapped back to reality and, with a mental slap to Cat Noir’s face, he shook him out of his trance and got him back to his feet. Instantly, the akumatized superhero charged in Ladybug’s direction, sitting idly between the dragon’s paws, her earrings still beeping.

            He was thrust away by the dragon’s tail before he could get near her and thrown against a column that cracked under his weight. The dragon roared and spat fire all around him to trap him, as it hurtled to him to crush him under his enormous clawed paw. Cat Noir screamed his lungs out, but the dragon didn’t budge and kept pressing him against the cold, hard tiles, hollering at him.

            “Tut-tut, careful, now,” Mystique made him back off a bit. “We don’t want to kill him, do we?” She spoke in a playful tone, smiling widely at her creature, drawing out a hand to stroke his white scales. “Dragons represent fortune, authority, luck, and development,” she listed, to Hawk Moth’s attention. “They denote the ability to rise over the most despicable circumstances and see things clearly. Can you see the irony of the situation? While you go around moping and moaning about righteousness and justice, you have just been beaten by the epitome of reason and virtue.”

            “I haven’t lost _yet_ ,” Hawk Moth tsked, and, soon after, Cat Noir turned into a shadow and slipped through the dragon’s grip. Mystique seemed amused. “What are you laughing about?”

            “Fire kills shadows,” Mystique explained, her hands on her hips. “It seems that your little prince is stuck in my dragon’s fire cage.”

            As if to prove her point, Cat Noir emerged inside the circle of flames, right next to the white dragon’s paw, seeming a bit confused and disoriented. The dragon let out a screeching roar, bringing his razor-sharp fangs filled maw dangerously close to the akumatized superhero’s face– the latter gulped audibly, slowly backing away, but fire burned all around him and he had no way out.

            “Oh, fuck me,” he mumbled under his breath, before he just shut his eyes closed and decided to make a run for it.

            Cat Noir’s akumatization didn’t alter his costume all that much– he still had his tail, his ears, and his tail, was still dressed in black leather– he still had his mask on and his little collar bell still dinged each time he ran and jumped around, crossed swords with Ladybug or Rena Rouge, or bounced back to his feet whenever he would fall… It only enhanced the deadly aspects of his weapon and gifted him with new powers, sharpened his senses– it subjected him to Hawk Moth’s control– and Hawk Moth didn’t want his puppet to get hurt too seriously, or get burnt, because the Prince of Shadows was concretely the supervillain’s last chance at winning and making his wish come true. Cat Noir chose to trust in that, as he covered his face with his arms and went through the white-hot flames– the tip of his hair still caught on fire, but he managed to put it out quickly enough.

            Ignoring the dragon’s furious growl, he sprinted towards Ladybug and was actually able to get to her before Mystique. He was about to take her earrings off when he realized she wasn’t moving to stop him– he cupped her face instead, but her stare was blank and her mouth was dry. Her body looked dulled out and wasn’t reacting to anything. He called her name several times to try and wake her up, but it was like she was gone. He tried not to cry as he carefully laid her on the ground, before he turned around to face Mystique, unhooking his weapon from his belt and directing it at the latter. “What the hell did you do to her?” he yelled, enraged, and he was red suddenly, and he wanted to kill that blue woman.

            “Exactly what was done to you,” Mystique replied elegantly.

            “S-she looks…” His voice died on his tongue as he was simply incapable of pronouncing the dreadful word, so he just looked away, while Mystique smiled at him softly.

            “She’s not,” she reassured him. “Give me your bell and I’ll bring her back.”

            Cat Noir hesitated– Hawk Moth didn’t miss it and yelled something inside his brain to make him fight their new enemy. Cat Noir tried to resist. “If I give it to you, I won’t be strong enough to keep your dragon from killing her!” he countered, lifting his weapon higher, and bringing it closer to Mystique’s face– the dragon’s saw it as an offence and was about to attack him, when his mistress just stopped him, and ordered him to stay back.

            “I didn’t create the dragon to kill her, I did it to protect her,” she said. “From you.”

            “From _me_?” Cat Noir seemed surprised. “I wasn’t going to _hurt_ her.” He sounded offended.

            “Not intentionally,” Mystique argued. “Give me your bell, Cat Noir.”

            Cat Noir slowly put down his weapon and reached for his collar bell, grasping it in his fist, but, instead of yanking it off his costume, he just stepped back, his leather ears flat against his hair, and he was suddenly growling at her. In a split of a second, he was gone again.

            Hawk Moth’s sinister laugh echoed in the empty room. “This battle could go on for days– when the Ladybug and the Black are up against each other, none wins. I can hold my transformation for a long, long time, Emilie… you, on the other hand, seem a bit rusty.”

            Mystique didn’t bother with a reply and turned her dragon’s way, whispering silent orders into his ear and, immediately, it was belching out yellow-red flames all around the place, on the walls, the columns, setting the ground on fire, and making the window glass melt– Cat Noir was forced to abandon his shadow form in order not to get wiped out by the creature’s fury.

            From this moment on, everything happened very quickly– Cat Noir was caught between the dragon’s claws and unable to move, and Mystique destroyed his akuma, before feeding the dark-purple butterfly to her monster, causing Hawk Moth to de-transform in what seemed to be a pretty painful manner– Nooroo reappeared, weeping, as he crashed into Mystique’s arms, rubbing his head against her left cheek. She hugged her long-lost kwami back as she made her dragon disappear, and made her way to Gabriel Agreste to take back the Moth Miraculous. The latter sat still, unable to look at her, or anyone for that matter, while Cat Noir, who was trying to make a sense of the last hours, crawled toward the sleeping figure of Marinette, Tikki, napping right beside her. He de-transformed as well and began to apologize to Plagg, before the cat-shaped kwami interrupted him with a simple, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

            Adrien, like most akumatized victims, didn’t remember much, but still had the impression he was at least partly responsible for all this mess. He took Marinette into his lap and softly stroked her face, but she was sleeping heavily and didn’t look like she was going to wake up anytime soon. Plagg flew over to Tikki– the latter was easier to shake up. “Hey, sugar cube, it’s over, wake up,” the little black kwami whispered into his other half’s ear and the latter let out a deep moan, as she stretched her tiny paws above her head and lazily opened her eyes.

            “I told you to stop calling me that,” was her only answer and Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “What happened?”

            “Adrien,” a soft voice called behind him, as a careful, very blue hand closed around his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. She’s just tired. I promise.”

            He didn’t turn around, still completely focused on Marinette, and on avoiding the sight of his father– his father, who was Hawk Moth, and who was going to face the consequences of everything he’s done. His father, who turned him into an akuma and forced him to fight the love of his life– his father, who was a wanted criminal and who has ruined the lives of so many. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

            She didn’t answer any of his questions– but something in his guts told him that he already knew them. Instead, she said, “you need to get her and your other friend out of here before you inhale too much smoke,” and Adrien finally realized that the whole place was still burning up.

            “I… R-right, I–“ he spluttered as he got to his feet and scooped Marinette into his arms.

            “W-wait!” Tikki interrupted him– she seemed extremely tired as well and had to rely on Plagg because she couldn’t fly on her own. “I must fix all of this, and you have to find Trixx and Pollen before we get out,” she said, sounding terribly dizzy.

            “It’s not a big deal,” Plagg replied. “Humans can deal with the damage, you need to rest. I just saw Trixx’ Miraculous somewhere, I’ll get it.”

            Tikki shook her head. “I need to make sure Pollen is okay,” she whimpered, and Plagg’s face fell, as he remembered what Hawk Moth had made Cat Noir do.

            He nodded and let go of her– but still remained next to her to catch her if needed. Adrien watched them, guilt tearing his stomach apart. He brought Marinette closer to him, while Mystique was taking care of Gabriel, dragging him up the stairs herself.

            Tikki breathed deeply and closed her eyes. “Miraculous Ladybug,” she pronounced the magic words, and a little ball of white light appeared between her paws, before she tossed it in the air and sent her baby ladybugs to put out the flames and fix up the place, restore the two broken Miraculouses, and cure Chloe Bourgeois’ temporary paralysis.

            The latter was quick to her feet after that, ignoring the pain in her legs and her arms, or the burning sensation in her entire body, and rushed toward where her hairpin reappeared, only to discover, with shock and consternation, that the jewel was gray and colorless, and that Pollen was nowhere to be found.

            She let out an agonizing scream, holding the empty Miraculous to her heart, and Adrien just wanted to go over to her and console her, but, like Plagg, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and glanced away as Tikki flew over to her, to cry on her shoulder.

            Plagg went through the room and found the Fox Miraculous– fortunately, Trixx was still in there, resting, and he brought it to his holder.

            When Chloe stood up and finally made her way to the stairs, refusing to address Adrien, the latter decided to follow.

            In Gabriel’s office, Alya was holding on to a freezing Nino, wrapped up in a blanket she had found in one of the house’s cupboards. They were sitting on a sofa, and Nino was in her arms as she tried to warm him up. Polar Wayzz was flying in circles above their heads, as he tried his best to spend all his extra energy.

            Mystique had taken Gabriel’s tie from him and tied his hands behind his back, and was guarding him, as they all waited for the police to show up. She looked at him with disgust, as Nooroo began on telling her about all the atrocities he had him do.

            Master Fu was there too– it was something that didn’t surprise Adrien all that much. He had the Miraculous chest in his hands and looked like his speech had just been interrupted. He glanced at the two latecomers with something like sadness on his face, and smiled softly at Chloe. The latter sobbed again and he took her his arms, putting the chest aside, and tried to reassure her, the best he could. After a while, Alya and Nino got up as well and hugged her dearly. Adrien stayed back then, and Alya walked over to him and smiled grimly, as she passed a hand on Marinette’s forehead to get her sweaty hair out of her face. “It’s not your fault,” she told him, squeezing his arm gently.

            Her face was injured, Adrien noted, but he didn’t say anything. She led him to Chloe and encouraged him to apologize– “It’s not your fault,” Chloe repeated Alya’s words, but Adrien could see it in her eyes that she blamed him and that she couldn’t forgive him all that easily.

            Fu didn’t speak, just nodded at them, before he walked up to Mystique and demanded the return of the Miraculouses, in addition to that of the _Scrolls_.

            “What? No!” she barked at the little old man, catching Nooroo in her hands and drawing him away from Fu. “I’ve had them since I was a little girl. They’re _mine_ – you can’t take them away from me!”

            “They were never yours. They were stolen from the Temple. Please, return them, Mystique.” Fu talked in a calm voice, unshaken by Mystique’s reluctance.

            “They were _saved_ from the fire and kept preciously by my family. They’re my birthright,” she argued.

            “They were _stolen_ by your ancestor, who could’ve destroyed all other Miraculouses, if it wasn’t for Wayzz. They belong with the Guardian of the Miraculouses. You are lucky returning them is all I am asking from you.”

            Mystique disputed and fought for them some more, but had to comply eventually, when Nooroo chose to step in and convinced her it was the right thing to do. So, she obeyed, and dropped her transformation. Adrien’s eyes rounded in awe as he recognized his mother, but she didn’t even glance at him, too busy saying goodbye to Duusu and Nooroo. He tried not to take it personally.

            Emilie gave the two brooches back to Master Fu, her face, drowned with tears, and the latter disposed of them in the chest. He then walked all the way over to Nino to give it to him.

            The latter was confused at first, but Fu only gestured to the Turtle Miraculous around his wrist and said that it was time for him to pass it on to another Guardian. “I will teach you our ways,” he promised him. “I swore to myself I would remain a Guardian until I found the missing Miraculouses and get them back, and now that I’ve done that, I can finally retire in peace.”

            The police arrived shortly after and Adrien decided to call a cab and leave, Marinette still in his arms, while his father was being taken away. He waved his friends and Master Fu off and gave his phone number to his mother– she responded awkwardly but promised to call.

            When they returned to the apartment, Tikki and Plagg found a cozy place next to a window and passed out, as Adrien laid Marinette down on her bed, covering her with a blanket and let her rest. He walked back to the living room and turned the T.V. on– Nadja Chamack was live from the _Palais de l’Elysée_ , at last announcing Hawk Moth’s defeat to the people of Paris. Adrien could see she was dying to reveal his true identity, but she was bound to secrecy by the DGSE– at least for now.

            He let out a deep sigh before he jumped into the shower and tried to wash off all the blood, the smoke and the fire that still tainted his skin– Chloe would maybe forgive him someday, he thought, but, right now, he was just getting ahead of himself, so, he let the hot water drown his face and mix with his tears–

            All Gabriel had to do, he realized, was tell him that he wasn’t Hawk Moth and he would’ve believed him, but even he, now, couldn’t deny the truth. He was the son of a criminal, a murderer, a fanatic… and there was no way people were going to let it slide, once the secret will be out.

            He thought about calling Felix when he got out of the shower, but, as he was dialing his number, he decided to visit him instead, and left Marinette a note, in case she would wake up before his return.

            When he ringed the bell to his brother’s apartment, he expected lots of things– he expected Felix to shout at him, or punch him, or throw him out, but the latter just stared at him, looking very sad, almost as if he was about to cry, and took him in his arms. Adrien was surprised, but didn’t say anything and hugged him back, remembering to breathe deeply to keep the tears from flowing.

            Felix invited him in– Bridgette was in the kitchen, busying herself with cooking and the dishes. She greeted him politely and invited him to join them for dinner. She decided to leave early, to give them some privacy, and kissed Felix goodbye, making him promise to call her in the morning– Adrien learned that Felix was going to visit Bridgette’s family for the holidays and that they were leaving the next day– they were taking Felix’s car, because public transportation was still unavailable.

            The two brothers talked, a lot– Felix mentioned Gabriel and Natalie’s engagement, and their breakup, and the fact that Natalie was helping him in his mad quest. Adrien told him he was Cat Noir and that Marinette was Ladybug, and Felix took it surprisingly very well– he told him about the battle, about how he was akumatized, but left out the part where he had killed one Miraculous god. They talked about their mother and, after a long hour of arguing, they finally agreed on meeting with her, together, and get her side of the story, if she ever decided to reach out.

            Then, it was too late, and Adrien was too tired to go home, so he crashed on Felix’s couch. The next morning, both of them received a call from their father’s lawyer, telling them that Gabriel’s trial will begin next week and that it will take place at the European Court of Justice, in Luxemburg– they assured him they would be there, but they both knew their words were but empty promises.

            “I should go,” Adrien said. “Marinette is probably worried sick.”

            Felix only nodded. “Tell her I said hi.”

            “I will,” Adrien smiled.

            “Oh, and… Adrien?” Felix stopped him right when he was about to step outside. “Merry Christmas.”

            Adrien grinned at him. “Merry Christmas, Felix.”

 

***

 

Adrien spent Christmas Day at the Dupain-Chengs this year. He and Marinette arrived around ten in the morning with wine and presents, and the former got to meet his girlfriend’s grandparents. Their names were Georges and Gina, they were Tom’s parents– According to Marinette, the latter only got to meet her mother’s parents on a few occasions, when Sabine and she would go visit them in Shanghai.

            They all hung out in the living room for a bit, before the women decided to head to the kitchen to start working on the turkey.

            Adrien, feeling a little out of place, chose to follow a while later, when he realized he didn’t have much to talk about with Tom and Georges.

            “Hey, do you need any help?” he asked, shyly stepping into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, interrupting what seemed to be a very serious conversation between Gina, Sabine and Marinette– they were standing around the table, munching on some chips and sipping on red wine, and Adrien was at least eighty percent sure they were talking about him.

            Marinette looked adorable in her little pink apron, as she smiled at him widely and made her way to him. “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted him, pulling on his shirt to make him meet her lips. “Are Dad and Gramps’ lame jokes boring you already?”

            Adrien chuckled at that. “I think it’s rather the other way around… I really want to do a good impression, you know? I just… I have no idea what to talk about.”

            “Well, I know for a fact that they both are huge hopeless romantics,” Marinette said, as she stepped toward the fridge and took out a pack of beer– she then grabbed three bottles and cracked them open with a spoon– Adrien found it very impressive. “I mean, really, sometimes it’s just kind of sad,” she added, making Gina and Sabine giggle uncontrollably– the two of them then proceeded to recall some of their respective husbands most embarrassing episodes, and Adrien wondered if Marinette would one day joined them and tell them about stupid, romantic things he was sure he was going to do as well– or try to do, because, by the way Gina and Sabine were telling the stories, Georges and Tom’s surprises weren’t exactly properly thought through. He just laughed at the thought. “You should ask Gramps about how he met Grandma, and what he did to convince her to go on a date with him,” Marinette suggested, winking, as she handed him a beer, then the two others, and pushed him out of the kitchen. “Or, you can talk about how much you love me and how little meaning your life has without me.” She was joking, of course, but Adrien knew just how much truth was held in these words. “Oh, and if my dad asks you, we are _not_ hooking up.”

            Adrien blinked at her, but didn’t argue– Marinette was thankful for that. “Uh… copy that.”

            The rest of the day went by– Adrien had a blast bonding with Marinette’s family. They shared an exquisite dinner and opened the presents, and, before they knew it, it was late and they all decided to head home. Adrien thanked Tom and Sabine for having him– the couple made sure to send big Tupperwares full of food with their daughter– and when they were back at the apartment, Adrien and Marinette were simply too tired to do other than to sit and fall asleep in front of the T.V.

            When Hawk Moth’s true identity went public a couple weeks later, investors at _Agreste Designs_ slowly began to withdraw– the company’s premises had been seized down by the government and dismantled, and angry protesters around France began to organize marches in the center of big cities and burn all the clothes they owned from the brand– Marinette had just been lucky that her collaboration with _Agreste Designs_ was never announced publicly, or she could’ve risked losing some investors and attract the fury of fuming activists as well. On the other hand, however, other fashion designers and famous fashion houses of the world have been at war ever since, all fighting about who would get to buy the rights to Gabriel’s designs– Gabriel’s company was independent, and the fashion designer has, for a long time, cut out all his affiliations to any fashion institutions, so, by law, it was his sons, Felix and Adrien, who now each owned half of their father’s entitlements. Little to say, the latters didn’t know which way to turn.

            On February 3rd, Gabriel Agreste was sentenced to life imprisonment and incarcerated for crimes against humanity.

            “… _live in front of the European Court of Justice, where former worldwide renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, father founder of the_ Agreste Designs _brand, has been on trial for the last two months. It was on the decisive day of the 24 th of December, 2024, that the terrorist Hawk Moth, a mad man in possession of a powerful ancient artifact that enabled him to create monsters and attack civilians, has finally been defeated by French superheroes Ladybug and Cat Noir, helped by their subordinates Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee_,” Nadja Chamack’s voice was barely audible with all the noise and angry screams of the protestors behind her. “ _Gabriel Agreste was later announced as the man behind the iron mask and has been held in the Penitentiary Center of Luxemburg during his trial. It is to my knowledge that no attorney has agreed to… Oh, here they are! Come on! Mr. Agreste! Mr. Agreste! Over here! Nadja Chamack speaking– Please, answer our viewers’ questions– how do you feel about your current situation? Were you_ …“

            “Why are you still watching that?” Marinette’s voice startled Adrien and the latter immediately pressed on the mute button, before he turned around in his seat to look at her– she was just coming back from work. She left her shoes and coat next to the door and made her way to him, sat on the couch beside him and drew out a hand to gently stroke his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

            Adrien shrugged and glanced away. “I’m fine. J-just uh– catching up, you know…”

            Marinette moved her palm to his hair and scooted closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder. “Did you talk to Felix?”

            “Yeah,” he sighed. “We’re selling the house– I can’t think of anyone who’d be willing to buy it, though. Maybe we’ll just sell it to the state and they’ll build a theme park or something at its place… I don’t know.” He paused. “Anyway… how was your day?”

            “Um… well, I finally closed the contract with _Alvarado_ , today. They’re very excited about the fourteenth.”

            “I bet.” Adrien wrapped his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and brought her closer to him. “I can’t believe you still decided to go with it.”

            “The world can say whatever they want– your father was one hell of a fashion designer, and people should remember him that way,” Marinette said– she always knew what to say. “I mean, he wasn’t always a douche, right?”

            Adrien shook his head. “Mom’s leaving just really fucked him up.” He paused and seemed to think about something amusing, before he said, “Felix has this theory that our mother used her Miraculous’ powers on him and compelled him to develop some kind of addiction to her presence… He says that’s why he wanted her back so badly and couldn’t move on…” He shrugged, clicked his tongue. “Is it even possible?”

            “Well, the Peacock Miraculous is known to influence people’s states of mind and use their emotions to create monsters but uh… I don’t know… could be?”

            Adrien chuckled. “Well, whatever. I’m just glad all of this is over.”

 

***

 

The first big deceit the fashion world had had to endure after Hawk Moth’s defeat was the cancelation of Gabriel Agreste’s _Noir is the new black_ event.

            Unfortunately, because of the fashion designer’s ongoing trial at the time, reimbursing the tickets that have been bought and remunerating Gabriel’s employees for their work had been put on hold– Felix and Adrien had to drain out the company’s funds just to afford their father’s trial and repay all the investors that had decided to revoke their share of the business and, soon enough, they had to declare bankruptcy in order to get out of all of Gabriel’s debts.

            The name and prestige of _Agreste Designs_ was thus dead and the news was making people mad– purchasing agents of many fashion institutions all around Europe would call Felix and Adrien non-stop and send them thousands of e-mails and letters a day– some houses would even go to the extent of challenging them on national television to convince them to sell them the rights to Gabriel’s latest designs– so, in an attempt to temper their… _enthusiasm_ , Marinette had had the brilliant idea to resume the preparations of Gabriel’s worldwide event _Noir is the new black_.

            “I mean, the designs of the new collection, in addition to that of the fourth peacock dress are already complete, and the clothes are just sitting idly in one of Mr. Agreste’s empty ateliers,” she had announced during a private interview for _Voici!_ at some point during the last days of January. “Why not just give the public what they want?”

            The couple weeks following the interview had been pure chaos for Marinette and, after she had, with Felix’s help, of course, miraculously managed to book the Palace of Tokyo for the 14th of February on such short notice, she had been juggling non-stop between her phone and her computer, working 24-hour-long shifts every day, meeting with people, investors, sponsors, pitching them her ideas, signing contracts, then calling up some of her old college acquaintances she knew now worked in high places in the fashion industry and calling for favors they owed her, wearing out her web of connections to the extreme–

            Days– _months_ – of restlessness later, she had successfully hired an entire marketing team to promote the event, a whole crew of makeup artists and hairdressers, young designers, and photographers that would help her supervise the show, and held last-minute auditions to cast a lineup of models to pose in Gabriel Agreste’s latest and last creations.

            “You shouldn’t smoke,” Felix remarked, clenching Marinette’s cigarette between his thumb and his index, before he just snatched it away from her and tossed it on the ground, smashing it under his shoe. “It’s bad for you.”

            Marinette’s eyes were round with fear and she was clutching on her chest when she turned around to look at him. “Gosh… You _scared_ me! And… you owe me a cigarette,” she whined, before she glanced at the crystal glass he had in hand. “What’s this? Is it alcohol? May I?” she asked quickly, not even waiting for his answer before she took the glass from him and bottomed-up its entire content. When she gave it back to him, she was visibly very surprised, and lifted an eyebrow at him, smirking wryly. “Ice tea?”

            Felix just shrugged. “I told you. I don’t drink anymore. So… how are you holding up?”

            Marinette let out a derisive laugh. “ _Please_ , that’s nothing,” she assured him, gesturing at the backdoor exit behind her through which she had just slipped out to get some fresh air before the beginning of the show. “Try introducing Adrien to my dad, who still thinks of me as his beautiful, impeccable little princess,” she joked, remembering Christmas dinner at her parents’. “Or surviving being Alya’s maid of honor for more than a _week_ – now, _that_ ’s a real challenge,” she winked at Felix, and the latter laughed lightly. “Besides, I… s-should be the one asking you that,” she added, a little more serious, and Felix immediately lost his smile.

            “Eh… Father only got what he deserved,” he pouted. “I’m pissed at him, of course, and I’m also a little sad of how things turned out but… I think I’m good now. Plus, if this whole thing were to have any positive aspect, well, you could say that it brought me and Adrien closer together, and I’m just happy to have my brother back. For a long time, he’s really all I ever had, so, oddly enough… I feel like everything’s slowly fitting back to place.”

            Marinette smiled, but her expression still betrayed sadness and worry. “And… what about your mom?”

            Felix frowned. “Well, I always knew she was a bitch.”     

            “Felix…”

            “Look,” he immediately interrupted her, “I know Adrien is taking it really hard but I… I wasn’t really uh… surprised? I think? I mean, she already abandoned us once. And when she came back, she was clear she didn’t come back for us, so… I was kind of expecting it. I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt– I’m just saying that, taking everything into consideration, it doesn’t hurt the tiniest as much as our dad’s imprisonment and it definitely isn’t enough to keep me awake at night.” He paused, stared at Marinette for a while, before he carried on, “I know you think I’m holding on to some kind of pain or anger… or whatever… but the truth is… I’m really fine with her being gone. I never cared much for her return and I’ve already dealt with her being gone before. If anything, I wouldn’t know what to do if she had indeed decided to stay with us…”

            Marinette let out a deep breath and didn’t say anything for a while. She nodded, shoved her hands deep into her pockets, and tried to think about what to respond, before she realized there was no way she could possibly relate to anything Felix was dealing with right now, so she decided to stay quiet, after she made him promise to talk to her if he needed to. He just smiled and then, it was time for them to go back inside.

            Adrien has suggested he modeled some of the designs and was already in costume when he was joined by Felix and Marinette. “Did you tell her?” he asked his brother as soon as he saw him.

            Marinette seemed confused. “T-tell me what?”

            Felix pouted. “No, _obviously_ ,” he replied, gesturing to Marinette’s puzzled expression.

            “Tell me what?” the latter insisted.

            Adrien smirked, one hand on his hip. “Come on, tell her already.”

            “I was waiting for _after_ the show– you know– when she would’ve been able to catch a breath and fully appreciate the news,” Felix reprimanded him.

            “ _Tell me what_?”

            Adrien smiled craftily and waggled his eyebrows at his brother until the latter finally gave up, rolling his eyes so hard, Mariette was sure she heard them. “You know how several fashion houses have repetitively been asking for the rights to our father’s latest collection?”

            “Yeah…?” Marinette’s tongue lingered on the one-syllable word.

            “Well,” Felix sighed, “we have finally come to a decision.”

            “We’ve decided to give them to _you_!” Adrien announced excitedly, tired of waiting for Felix to do it and, when the latter scolded him for it, “Come on, you were taking forever,” was his only answer.

            “I was building up to it!” Felix shot back but Adrien only ignored him.

            “Wait, _what_?” Marinette couldn’t believe her ears.

            The two brothers abandoned their little quarrel to smile at her. “It’s only fair,” Felix told her. “You’ve worked on this collection, too. Besides, this way, it’s as if it was passed from an Agreste to another– it stays in the family. It’s perfect.”

            Marinette frowned, reaching for the back of the neck to scratch it. “But I-I don’t understand… I’m not even an Agreste…”

            Adrien smirked at her, wrapping an arm around her waist to draw her closer to him. “I’m sure this can be arranged,” he whispered, leaving a light kiss on her temple, making her blush profusely.

 


End file.
